The Hawthorne Monologues
by Dendroica
Summary: A series of one-shots about the Hawthorne family, from miscellaneous events in The Hunger Games canon. Sometimes scenes, sometimes inner monologues. POV is different for different one-shots but is usually Hazelle or Gale. Since they are not in any particular order, chapters are now labeled with what book they belong to.
1. The Whipping (CF)

**A/N: Eventually I expect this will be a series of short one-shots about the Hawthorne family, from miscellaneous events in The Hunger Games canon.**

**Disclaimer - The Hunger Games and all these characters belong to Suzanne Collins.**

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Hazelle hurries through the snowy streets of district 12, hunched against the cold wind and wet snow. She's dreaded this day since Gale first went into the woods, wondering when the risks he takes for their family would finally catch up to him. She asks herself yet again what she could have done, how she could have protected her boy. But she's always known she can't keep him safe, not from the Capitol. She wishes she could, and hates that she can't. She has no power in this world.

Only minutes ago it was another typical night in the Seam. Hazelle was folding laundry, as usual, when there was a pounding on the door. When she answered it, she was surprised to see the girl named Levy, looking wind-blown and wild-eyed.

"Yes, honey?" Hazelle had asked, wondering if the girl was looking for Gale.

Levy had answered breathlessly, "Mrs. Hawthorne. You have to go. It's Gale. He's hurt. Katniss is taking him to her mom. In the Victor's Village."

"Is he okay? What happened?" Hazelle was instantly gripped by fear.

"He was whipped. Like, a lot. There's a new Head Peacekeeper, caught him with a turkey. I don't know, the Victors, they stopped it. But, he didn't look good. He was all bloody and passed out. They're taking him to her mom. You need to go there. Like, now. "

Luckily the kids didn't hear the exchange, thanks to the howling wind. Levy had offered to stay with them. Hazelle stumbled through quick instructions and a hurried thanks, told the children she'll be back late and to pay attention to Levy. Then she pulled on her winter coat and gloves and rushed out the door, into a barrage of heavy wet snowflakes.

Now, as she nears the Everdeen's home in the Victor's Village, she braces herself for what she might face inside. How bad would it be? Her poor boy, what sort of cruel world was this that he received such punishment for keeping his family fed? In this moment, Hazelle feels both her son's hatred for the Capitol and her fear for him whenever he let it show.

She knows he is lucky to be alive, especially if he was caught with evidence of hunting by a new head Peacekeeper. Still she wonders, would her son never get a break? He'd had to grow up so fast, unfairly expected to shoulder so much responsibility for his young siblings. It had been bad enough with Katniss going into the games. Hazelle was glad Katniss had made it home, really she was, but seeing her son fall apart watching her with Peeta was a new torture inflicted on her family.

When she reaches the Everdeen's home - a mansion compared to the houses in the Seam - she races up the steps and through the door without stopping to knock or be let in. She follows the voices straight into the room where Gale is laying face down on the table, his back in shreds, Mrs. Everdeen hovering over him, working quietly. Hardly aware of her own movement, Hazelle heads straight to a stool by the table and sits, reaching for her son's limp hand. Her thoughts are for Gale and Gale alone. She squeezes his hand to her lips and prays with every drop of energy left in her for him - for him to survive this, for his pain to be eased, for him to feel her love for him.

When a moan escapes his chapped lips, her brow knits at the knowledge he is coming to and the pain he will feel. She strokes his hair, silently comforting him as best she can. As Mrs. Everdeen and Prim look over their options for medicine, Katniss' outburst causes Gale to stir further. Hazelle's heart weeps for him, but she just sits, stroking his hand and running light fingers over his hair. The others leave the room, but Hazelle stays, unable or unwilling to leave her son's side.

When the doorbell rings, Hazelle doesn't even place the sound. It's not that she's unaware of doorbells, she rings them at her clients homes all the time. But her thoughts are focused entirely on Gale, and his pain which is worsening.

His teeth are clenched and sweat is glistening on his forehead by the time Mrs. Everdeen comes back into the kitchen, followed by Haymitch who is muttering about a crazy girl. Mrs. Everdeen immediately draws something from a vial and injects it into Gale's arm. The effect is immediate. Hazelle breathes more easily, mirroring her son. She leans back and for the first time since she walked in the door, truly wakes up to her surroundings. From the talk around her, Hazelle registers that the medicine was brought by the mayor's daughter, the one who bought the strawberries.

The Undersee girl, Margaret wasn't it? She wasn't surprised by the friendship between the girl and Katniss. She remembered how inseparable Katniss' mom and the Donner girls had been when they were young, back before the last Quell. Somehow it made sense that their daughters would somehow find each other, despite how different the girls were. To Gale, on the other hand, it was practically a crime for Katniss to be friends with - what did he call her? The _district princess_, a _spoiled townie_. Gale has been particularly sensitive about the friendship since the games, since Katniss became a part of the privileged class. Hazelle could only imagine how difficult things were for Katniss, but she saw every day how painful it was for Gale, who'd lost his Catnip and and there was nothing he could do about it. She let his rants against the privileged class slide. And now here Margaret was in the middle of the night, bringing him medicine in the middle of a snowstorm.

Hazelle feels tears prick her eyes, grateful for the good people helping her son. Her boy, who is resting peacefully now, under Mrs. Everdeens careful ministrations. It was one thing Hazelle simply couldn't help about her son. He didn't think much of Mrs. Everdeen either, the woman now saving his skin, literally. It saddened her to be reminded of her son's prejudices against people from town, at this moment when they were the very ones probably saving his life.

Hazelle chokes down some of the bread and stew that Prim hands her. Finally, she knows she must go home. She hates to leave Gale, but at least he is in less pain now, and she knows he's in good hands. Reluctantly, she takes her leave, and steps out into the deep night and swirling snow.


	2. Reaping Day (HG)

I can't face my family now. I sit on the back steps of the Justice Building, head in my hands.

Hell's Teeth, why couldn't I have told her? Now Katniss was on her way to the Hunger Games and I might never see her again. In person, anyway. I'd have plenty of opportunities to watch her pitted against 23 other tributes, I think bitterly. At least the Mellark kid shouldn't be a problem – he might be strong, but he was just a spoiled townie, he didn't have the survival instinct Katniss did. He probably wouldn't have it in him to kill when it came down to it.

This whole day was about as bad as I could ever have dreamt. So many moments I regret replay in my mind. Now I will have to watch the Capitol tear my Catnip apart, unable to encourage her, help her, and all I can think of was how things had gone so wrong.

Maybe it was better I'd kept my big mouth shut in the end – I'd spent the whole day putting my foot in my mouth it seemed.

First, there was that debacle with Katniss in the woods. I know running away isn't really an option, not with our families. But ever since I really noticed Katniss, as more than just a hunting partner, I couldn't help but imagine the possibility. I haven't imagined that kind of freedom and happiness in years, not since my father died. Maybe it was better that I hadn't told her, given Katniss' uninspiring reaction to my daydream. I am used to being the strong one. I've learned to hide my emotions, but after everything we've been through, and all she means to me, I hate to have to hide them from her, too.

Why didn't I keep my big mouth shut at the mayor's house? I couldn't help it. I know they are sort of friends, though I can't imagine _why_. It made my blood boil, seeing the pretty little princess in her pristine white dress, which wouldn't last five minutes in the Seam, and that gold pin that's probably worth more than I will make in a year as a miner. That girl stands for everything I will never have. At the time, Katniss' 20 entries, and my 42 entries, were weighing on me. Undersee had never been starving, she'd never had to sign up for tesserae, and in that moment it seemed her name would never be called in the reaping, entered as few times as it was. Foot in mouth. Again.

And then Prim, with her name in only once - _once_ - gets reaped! How can that happen? About the only time I got it right was there at the reaping, pulling Prim away from the stage, being stoic and strong for her. There was no time to think about it. It all happened so fast.

In the justice building, at my last opportunity to tell her, I couldn't get it out. There was that one brief moment holding her, giving her what little comfort I could. But she was wearing that damn gold pin. They were hardly friends and Undersee could just give away something that valuable? I'd suddenly felt like I had to compete with it, had to give her something of value myself, something to keep her alive. All I had were words, advice, on how to stay alive in the arena. I'd thought about it enough over the years. And suddenly the Pecekeepers were pulling me out of the room, and she actually felt she had to ask me to take care of her family? As if there were any doubt.

I rub my hand over my face. I need to go home to my family, to be strong again, for Vick and Rory. To pretend for Posy, who doesn't understand what's happened. And I will. But I'm not ready yet; I still need a minute. Ma will understand.


	3. Into the Woods (CF)

Hazelle sits on a Mossy patch of forest floor, watching the people around her. Disbelief and exhaustion still overwhelm most of them. She can't even be sure that she's recovered. They have been through a terrible night, but today Hazelle is only grateful for who her son has become, proud for the leadership he has shown in these last few hours.

Without Gale's hunting, would he have been awake to see the snare?

What would have happened to her family if he had been sleeping? Would they have gotten out in time? He had been keeping vigil, staying up not just to watch Katniss - she knew it was hard for him to see her in the arena again, let alone watching her with Peeta. Gale also needed to see what snare the victor Beetee was laying for their enemies in the arena. He had a mind for puzzles that that he channeled into the snares that had, until recently, kept his family fed. Hazelle had been surprised by her son's interest in the district three victor, but he must have seen something in Beetee and his snares.

Without Gale's obsession with the evils of the Capitol, would he have have felt danger coming when the t.v. went black last night?

She'd always felt he spent too much time on things they couldn't change. Having spent so much time consumed by the myriad of ways Snow enforced his tyranny, somehow Gale seemed to have developed a sense of how the Capitol worked. Seeing Katniss entangled into their twisted designs had only focused his attention on them further.

Without his experience in the mines, could he have rallied those men to tear down the fence?

He'd sent the family ahead to the meadow as he went back for others. The crowd had formed in the meadow, men and women and children, many in their nightclothes. In that kind of gathering, their panicked fear multiplied as they watched firebombs destroy their homes, as they pushed against each other in the night. Gale didn't think like the others, didn't see the fence itself as a barrier, only the electricity that ran through it no more. He had been the one to call on his friends, on men he knew from the mines, on Thom and Elliot and all the others. Together they had pulled down that chain link fence that had imprisoned them for so long, opening the gates to the frantic mob that pushed their way out of the district and into the unfamiliar woods. Those woods, so beautiful and yet so threatening, for those who'd never crossed into them. Even for Hazelle, it had been a long long time ago, before Gale was born, that she'd last crossed that fence.

Without his knowledge of the woods, could he have led the survivors to this lake?

Hazelle hadn't even known it was here, never heard about it from Gale. Yet here they were, worn and weary, burned and blistered, but alive. Beyond the little cabin, she saw Rory and Posy, picking berries where Gale had shown them. Looking over the scattered crowd, only a fraction of the district had made it, and almost all from the Seam, from the looks of it. Hardly a blond among them, other than the Everdeens.

Without his love for Katniss, would they have a healer with them to tend their burns?

She knew that was the first place Gale had gone. He'd gone all the way to the Victors Village, risking everything as he ran almost the entire length of the district as the firebombs rained down, to save Katniss' family. To save them for her. She may be the one in the clutches of the Capitol, but for him that meant it was his job to keep her family safe. Hazelle shuddered to think what could have happened to her eldest boy. And now, the Everdeens are kept so busy, the only ones here who can ease the pain of the burned and injured.

Soon they will need to find food. They will need to share whatever meager resources they have, and think about how they will survive in the wilderness. And Hazelle knows that Gale will be needed. But for now, she gently strokes his hair and lets him sleep.


	4. A night at home (CF)

Another long day in the mines. Now home, I've cleaned up and hung some laundry out on the line for Ma. I'm about to head inside to help with dinner when Posy comes running around the side of the house. She throws herself in my direction and wraps herself around my leg, shrieking with laughter.

I can't help but chuckle as Posy shrieks and twists her body around my legs. I pretend to not notice her, and walk a step toward the house, dragging Posy along with me.

"Huh." I mutter loudly, "I must be awfully tired. My leg feels like …" I look down and pretend to be surprised to see Posy clinging to me. "Whoa! Where'd that come from?"

Posy looks up at me, still giggling uncontrollably.

Another step. "Hey Ma!" I yell, "I think I need an apothecary. I've got a weird growth on my leg."

There's fresh laughter from Posy as she pulls at the hem of my shirt. "Gale, it's me. It's Posy."

"Aaugh! It's talking!" I cry out, reaching down and scooping her up in my arms. I swing her up in the air above my head, sparking more giggles. I almost lower her to the ground but don't let her down entirely.

"Gale!" she demands through her laughter.

"What?" I exclaim, swinging her back up to my eye level, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Posy? Is that you?"

She laughs, nodding her head at me.

"How did you get so tall?" I ask her.

"Uhhh ... "

"Uh-oh, not gonna tell me? You're in trouble now." I swing her through the air again, as she erupts in laughter again.

"Gale! Put me down!" she yelps through her giggles.

I spin her around a few more times, before setting her back on the ground and taking her hand. Once her giggles have quieted, I pull her toward the house.

"Okay Pose, let's go see if Ma needs any help, okay?"

"Okay," she says happily, trailing me into the house.

After homework and chores, Vick and Rory don't want their little sister chasing after them anymore. I want them to be able to go have fun, so I've been looking after Posy more and more when I'm home from the mines. And, even though she can be a brat sometimes, days like this remind me I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Inside, I let Posy direct me on how to set the table for dinner, though we won't need much for tonight's stew. I make her count how many people there will be; she's always right, since we never have company. Today Posy's bossing is adorable. From the kitchen, Ma mutters loudly enough for me to hear, "I wish you'd listen to me like that." But I know she's teasing.

Ma calls in the boys to clean up for dinner and as she scoops out stew into bowls for everyone, I try to keep Posy occupied at the table. She's pretty squirmy tonight (okay, maybe I shouldn't have gotten her all riled up right before dinner) so instead of making her wait in her own chair, I hold her on my lap and try to distract her.

"Hey Pose, what did you do today? Did you help out Ma again?"

She brightens instantly. "I saw Katniss! She was being a princess on t.v. again." With Katniss on the Victory Tour, we get broadcasts showing their visits to the districts. Posy, of course, has heard a few too many fairy tales and thinks anyone in a fancy dress is a princesses.

Out of the corned of my eye I see Ma's head jerk in my direction. She's probably worried that I'm about to freak out at the mention of Katniss. Well, I'm not. I'm fine.

"Ooh, that sounds fun. What do you remember?" I ask pointedly, as Ma sets the bowls of stew in front of us.

"She had a pretty dress on. Like a Princess. It was the prettiest ever." Every dress is the prettiest dress ever, in Posy's view. She asks, "Can I be a princess like Katniss?"

I've learned not to think about the implications of this question and just lie. "Of course you can Posy, but not until you're all grown up."

"Oh yeah." She says, disappointment flitting across her face.

"Hey, what color dress was Katniss wearing?"

"Umm, green."

"Green huh? That's my favorite color! Is green your favorite color too?" I ask as Rory and Vick slide into their seats at the table.

"No," she says, wrinkling her face. "I like yellow."

"Oh. Yellow like the schoolhouse?"

"No Gale," she declares. "Yellow like a flower."

Ma takes her seat and interrupts us with a weary smile. "Okay, you two. Time for dinner."


	5. Tribute Interviews (HG)

Gale is fuming. What kind of idiot drops that kind of bombshell the night before the Hunger Games? Gale can still hear it in his head. "Because she came here with me."

Why couldn't they have a decent mentor, someone who wasn't drunk all the time? Someone who could have prevented this.

Of course he knew how the Mellark boy looked at her, but what did the townie think would happen now? Some last minute tryst before they got dumped in the arena to fight for their lives? Ha! If that's what he thought, he had another think coming. Gale could tell his poor Catnip was caught completely off guard. She was so completely oblivious when it came to guys. Gale knew that only too well.

What will she do? She couldn't like him back. The thought is too revolting and Gale shoves it aside. No way she'd want someone like that. She'd never shown the slightest hint of being interested in any boys, not like the other girls at school. But then again, Gale's threatening glares had been enough to prevent any schoolboy confessions. As far as he knows, it's the first time she's been confronted with this kind of thing. Oh she's going to be pissed. He thinks. Hopes?

No, he tells himself. He saw it in her reaction. Most people probably wouldn't, but he knew her too well. Something, he wasn't sure what - something hidden in the tension behind her slackened jaw, the wide shock in her eye? He knew she'd been completely blindsided, and not in a good way. For a brief moment, Gale smirks in satisfaction.

It was that last shot of her on screen that had, oddly, calmed him. In that last shot, after Mellark's stupid confession, he'd seen his Catnip - hiding there under the dress and the makeup and the hair. He'd seen _her_ again.

Ever since she left, everything the Capitol has broadcast - it hasn't been her. He'd been uneasy and anxious, seeing her on the screen like that. Sure, he'd been blown away by those fiery costumes like everyone else. How could he not have? She was dazzling. He'd been stunned speechless, but he hated that she was being paraded around like this, and it wasn't _her_. All that smiling and waving. And handholding, ugh. That was not his Catnip. When he saw her in that interview dress, he wanted nothing more than to be at her side, to sweep her off her feet and carry her away from there, even without the fire. But then her interview and that stupid Caesar Flickerman - again, she wasn't herself. But it was like Ma said, she's just putting on a show for those Capitol crowds. Not letting them into her world. And Gale likes that, because he is part of that world.

They all knew what was at stake. Tomorrow they go into the arena. His Catnip needs to be focused on survival; she doesn't need this distraction. She can't let anything stop her from coming home. He knows the odds are _not_ in her favor, but still, she has a chance, right?. If she can get her hands on a bow. If only there's a bow, she'll find a way to get it then she'll be able to do it, to win the games and come home to him. And with her training score, he knows the gamemakers saw what she can do. Surely there will be a bow?

Hazelle's concerned voice pulls him out of his thoughts. "Gale, honey, you've been staring at the television for half an hour. They aren't going to broadcast anything more until tomorrow. Why don't you try and get some rest?"

Gale looks over to the table where Hazelle is sitting, mending a pair of socks for Vick. She must've put the kids to bed when the interviews were over. Gale vaguely remembers mussing Posy's hair as she hugged him goodnight.

"Yeah, ma, I guess." He unfolds himself from the worn couch and silently slips into the bedroom where Vick and Rory are already sleeping. Tomorrow, he'll be up before dawn. He needs to check the snares, and whatever else there's time for before the electricity is on again for the broadcast of the start of the games. It'll be harder to get out consistently once the games start. The electricity is on much more, and sometimes at upredictable times.

He should pick some strawberries to sell too, while they're sweet and ripe. He doesn't really want to, but he knows he'll get a good price for them from the Mayor. Then maybe he can put a coin or two in the collection at the Hob. Katniss would be disappointed if he let strawberries go to waste just because ... because she's the one who usually sells there.


	6. Tracker Jacker Vigil (HG)

At the end of the day, my clients' laundry is done, ready to be delivered in the morning. Dinner has been eaten and the dishes are clean. I rub some balm into my hands, soothing the dry, cracked skin. Gale brought the balm from the Everdeens this morning, today's trade for the game Gale brought them. They must have thought of it as a way to repay Gale. Not that he asks for compensation. We've bought balm from them before, in the winter when the water gets cold so fast and my hands ache from scrubbing. Now in the summer, it feels like a luxury even using a small amount.

Gale is at the Everdeen home tonight, commiserating with Katniss' family as we all watch the games. He belongs to them as much as us right now, caring for her family while Katniss fights in the games. It reminds me how devoted he is to her now - a far cry from the fourteen year old boy who griped about the little girl messing with his snares.

The biggest shift has been in the last year, from what was a hunting partnership, even a friendship, to what is now what he most lives for. The woods, at Katniss' side, that's become his refuge, his balm from the worries of district 12, of raising his brothers and sister. He tries so hard to keep the world at bay and let them have the childhood that was cut short for him.

I'm beyond worried for what these games will do to him, if Katniss doesn't make it home, or even if she does. Our one victor in district 12 is evidence enough that winning the games does not lead to happiness or freedom. Not to mention the whole twist with Peeta protecting her. If she survives and has to live knowing he sacrificed himself for her? I don't think my son realizes how different things will be for them if she does come home. I don't know how to talk to him about it. It breaks my heart that I can't do anything for him. All I can do is be here when he needs me.

I sit Posy in my lap, facing her away from the television just in case something grisly is shown. She doesn't really know what's going on, and I want to keep it that way as long as possible. I braid her hair quietly, keeping one eye on the television and one on Posy.

Rory and Vick sit in front of the television, watching intently. They're both old enough to understand what's going on, and they know Katniss. She, and the others, are still suffering from the Tracker Jacker venom. Earlier, they showed her moaning and thrashing a bit. It pained me to hear Vick's insistent whispers, telling Katniss that she needed to get up, to move. He's my thinker - so quiet, so sensitive to the pains of the world. The broadcast didn't stay with her for long, though. Unconscious tributes aren't very exciting for the Capitol audience. Now they are showing the tribute from district 11, Thresh. He's harvesting grains from the field he's been hidden in, and the camera angle has just changed to show a huge snake hiding near him in the grass. Vick has picked this boy as one of his favorites (after Katniss and Peeta, of course) and both boys watch anxiously.

"He's gonna get bit," Rory mutters to Vick.

"Nuh-uh. Not by some dumb snake." Vick answers hotly.

Yesterday Katniss dropped the nest on the Careers. Two more dead. Two more mothers grieving. I can't help but think it, every time someone dies in there. Will this snake end another mother's vigil? I worry about Katniss' mother, knowing from Gale how she disappeared into herself when her husband died. It was a hard time for both our families, and I was lucky to keep food on the table - of course, Gale already knew his way around the woods, and his tesserae helped make ends meet. Now Katniss' mother has to face her daughter in the arena.

Katniss has her bow now, which should give her an advantage, if she survives the effects of the tracker jackers. Peeta had saved her, before being maimed in the fight with that vicious Career from district two. I had needed only one sideways glance to see how conflicted Gale was. He can't deny that Katniss owes Peeta her life. That kind of debt wouldn't sit well with him in any case.

Peeta had barely managed to escape yesterday - he must not have been stung as badly as the other Careers. Given the look of that gash in his leg, it was a miracle he'd made it to the creek bed. He's managed to mostly bury himself in the muck near the edge of the creek. It seems like a recipe for infection, but at least he is mostly hidden from his human enemies. Today he had come to, and managed to paint his face with mud to better camouflage into the creek bed. Posy had thought it was a great game. When Vick and Rory took her out to play after school today, she proceeded to 'paint' her own face with dirt. I have a feeling Rory was all too happy to let her get herself coated in dust and dirt.

It's been a relatively quiet day in the arena, with so many Careers temporarily out of the picture. I would be grateful for the reprieve but I've seen too many years of this. It will only get worse. Usually I pray for a fast games; it's much better to get it over with as quickly as possible. At least this year, a longer games might benefit Katniss, since she's better adapted than most to survive in these conditions. Rather, that would be the case, if the gamemakers didn't interfere when things calmed down too much for their liking.

In the arena, it's still light, though the sky here is darkening. Thresh managed to avoid the snake's attack and kill it. Now the games are showing the Career camp, and it's unusually quiet residents. Ah, they're showing that redhead girl sneaking into the booby-trapped supplies again. We've already seen her doing this several times, but I guess they keep showing it in case she screws up and gets blown to smithereens. Time to get Posy to bed. I set her down on the floor and she hugs her brothers goodnight before trudging off to get ready.

By the time Posy is settled into bed and I head back to the where the boys sit watching the games, the little girl is on screen, out of the trees for once, collecting nuts and some kind of leaves. As I sit next to them, Rory whispers, "She knows where Katniss is. I think she's looking out for her. Remember she showed her the nest?"

I smile at him, answering quietly, "Maybe Katniss has found a friend." I smooth his hair, and try to smooth my own anxiety, the tension in the pit of my stomach. Because in the games, friendships can't last.


	7. Cousins (HG)

An hour and a half to check the snare line. There's not a lot in the traps today, just a couple of rabbits and a squirrel. He spends another half hour picking strawberries and blackberries, before heading home.

When he's back inside the fence, Gale decides to take the Everdeen's share to them now, before they're all consumed by what's happening in the games. Prim answers the door. "Hi Gale," she says, obviously distracted by the thought of the games. "Hey Prim," he answers quietly, "there's rabbit and blackberries today." He hands her the extra game bag. "Thank you," she says. "Wait, I have some milk for you. Can you wait a minute?" She turns and disappears into the interior before he can stop her.

"Sure," he says, loudly enough for her to hear. "But you don't need to give me anything, you know. You should sell it."

"No, I saved this one for you." She hands him a quart of goat milk in a glass bottle.

He ducks his head. "Thanks, Prim. See you at the viewing." He reaches out and musses her hair affectionately, like he would with his own siblings, before he turns to go.

He leaves the other game, the goat milk and the rest of the blackberries with Hazelle. There's not much time before the viewing, so he takes the strawberries with him into town.

He still feels a little guilty over what he said to the Undersee girl on reaping day. He knows it's not her fault the system is so unfair. He knows the Capitol would want him to take his anger out on the townies for their good fortune rather than focusing his hatred on the Capitol. To make it worse, both names drawn this year hardly had any entries; she'd had just as good a chance of being reaped as either Prim, with her one entry, or Mellark, who probably had five, just like Madge.

Gale hasn't talked to Madge since the reaping and hopes that their housekeeper answers the door. Even the Mayor might be better, unless Madge told him what Gale had said, that could definitely be worse. She wouldn't do that would she? He doesn't think so - she'd rather fight her own battles, he thinks. Still, the last thing he needs is to be on the Mayor's bad side, a reason for the Mayor to want to have him arrested. He should learn to keep his big mouth shut.

When he reaches the back door, he hears muted piano music coming from inside. He knows it's Madge playing. He can't imagine having the luxury of the time it must have taken her to get so good at such a purposeless activity. _They're just strawberries_, he tells himself. _Just make the trade and get out of here._ After the viewing he'll be able to contribute to the collection at the Hob for Katniss. Assuming she survives the bloodbath at the cornucopia.

Reluctantly he knocks. Just his luck, he thinks, when the piano music stops. A moment later Madge opens the door.

"Gale!" she says, a strange look passing over her face, her hand bracing the open door.

At least she's not all dressed up today. He forces himself to keep his mouth shut about the piano. He doesn't want to get into it with the Mayor's daughter, not today.

"Brought some strawberries," he says flatly, holding them out to her.

"Oh, of course. Thanks." she says, pulling coins from her pocket to give him. He turns to go as soon as the coins are in his hand, but her touch freezes him.

Her free hand grabs his arm, then jerks away as if she's afraid of his response. "Wait! My dad needs to talk to you."

For a half second he thinks she did go crying to daddy about what he said the day of the reaping after all, but then she continues hurriedly, "It's about the games."

"What? Why? What happened? Is Katniss okay?" he spits out, curious but afraid of what he might hear.

Madge stares at him for moment, turning slightly pink as she says, "She's fine, for now anyway. Nothing like that. Dad will explain it to you." She pauses awkwardly, then says, "He's upstairs in his study. You can follow me." She sets the strawberries on the counter as she turns into the house.

He stands awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, looking into the pristine interior and thinking about the mud in the tread of his boots. Realizing he hasn't moved, Madge looks over her shoulder and asks sharply, "Coming?" He kicks his boots against the door frame, hoping it helps, and follows silently after her.

Gale feels completely out of place in the Mayor's big house, which feels cold and empty to him. He wonders what they do with all this space as he follows Madge silently up to the second floor. There are expensive looking knick knacks, vases and paintings, but everything looks untouched, like no one actually lives here. They could each have a whole floor to themselves - do they even see each other? On the staircase Gale's eyes watch her messy golden ponytail swaying from side for side with each step.

Madge knocks on a large, solid looking wooden door. From inside, Gale hears the Mayor's response, "Yes?" Madge slides the door open and peeks her head into the room. "Daddy? Gale Hawthorne is here. You wanted to talk with him?"

"Oh, yes, thank you dear."

She gives a small nod, her eyes meeting Gale's for the briefest acknowledgement and then she slips around him, leaving Gale staring at the open office door. Uncomfortably, Gale steps into the Mayor's office and sees the Mayor's shiny balding head bent over papers on a wide wooden desk. He stands stiffly for a moment, unsure what to do with himself, until the Mayor looks up from his work.

"Ah, Mr. Hawthorne. Thank you for coming." As if this meeting had been prearranged.

"Mr. Mayor." Gale wants to ask what's going on but can't find the right words.

"Well, son I'm sure you saw the broadcast last night? This, ehm, love interest is going to be part of our victor's strategies this year." Gale eyebrows shoot up. Strategy? For whom? Gale knows the Mellark boy didn't make it up. How could it possibly be used to their benefit? Not to mention the fact that only one tribute can come home.

"So it's very important that nothing interfere with that narrative. We don't know what will happen in the arena or how quickly they'll be down to the final eight tributes. But in the event that either of our district tributes reaches the final eight, Capitol reporters will be here to interview the friends and family."

Here the Mayor hesitates. "Now Haymitch thought it best that we prepare you for that eventuality. He believes it would be best if we presented you as Katniss' cousin."

Gale thinks he must have heard the Mayor wrong. Did he say cousin? "But sir, I'm not - " but the Mayor raises his hand, cutting off Gale's protest. "I understand this may seem strange. However, the Capitol citizens are already enamored with our star-crossed lovers. Haymitch and Effie have already had more interest from sponsors than our district has seen in years. So you see, it will be important that we do nothing to compromise our tributes' chances. Is that clear, young man?"

Gale's head is swimming. Sponsors? Katniss' cousin? What kind of strategy was this? The very idea repulses him, but wouldn't he do anything to help Katniss get home? And wealthy Capitol sponsors could be the difference between life and death in the arena.

Gales mouth is dry as he responds, "Yes, sir." Then there's the implication that Gale is a threat to a romance between Katniss and Peeta. Damn right, he thinks.

The tall man beams back at him, "Very good. I see my Madge was right about you. Naturally you will need to explain this to your family. If you'll excuse me, I have a few things to get to before the games begin. I'm sure Madge will see you out."

With that, the Mayor returns to his work, dismissing Gale. Gale, still absorbing everything, steps slowly back into the hall. The Mayor's family had talked about him? Had they planned this with Haymitch or were they just passing on the message? It was hard to imagine Haymitch being sober long enough to plan anything. And what did the Mayor mean, Madge was right about him?

He looks around and sees the stairs at the far end of the hall, and decides he can see himself out. But as he stalks silently down the hall, he glances through an open door into a room decorated in sky blue, with morning light filtering in through a frilly curtain. A set of shelves displays a girl's belongings only a district official could provide, from the worn dolls sitting up on a high shelf, to the lower shelf filled with books. The mayor's daughter sits on a plush carpeted floor, facing the window, the morning sun shimmering off her wavy blonde hair. Gale pauses, wondering if he should say something. Would she tell him anything more, anything to help sort this out?

Then he sees the empty jar and stacks of money laid out in front of her, maybe more than Gale has ever seen in one place. His stomach turns; he can't help the resentment that flows through him. She's sitting in her fancy bedroom counting money? What the hell does she even need it for? Her daddy probably gives her whatever she wants. He shouldn't be surprised though, considering what they pay for strawberries. He crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, eyes narrowing.

"So this is how you spend your time. Must be nice," he says sharply.

Madge doesn't even look up, just says in a calm voice, "Don't be so stupid, Gale. This isn't mine."

"Oh, so you spend your time counting other people's money? What, did your daddy put you to work then?" he sneers.

He can't see her face but hears the eye roll in her voice. "I put _myself_ to work. Katniss deserves more than the pittance the district usually has for sponsor gifts."

Gale is surprised into sincerity. "Sponsor gifts? All that is for Katniss?"

"Mm-hmm. Well, half is Peeta's, technically. I'm not allowed to ask the businesses to support a specific tribute. But that's without her collection from the Hob. And Haymitch decides how it's spent anyway. Sponsor gifts don't come cheap you know."

The collection from the Hob, where Gale's strawberry money is headed. He hadn't realized it would wind up right back here with the Mayor, but of course it makes sense. Who else could communicate with Haymitch about sponsorships? And since the Mayor is in contact with Haymitch, maybe ...

"Have you ... heard anything?"

Madge looks up, and her deep blue eyes meet his gaze. Her lips twitch briefly into a conspiratorial smile. "Just that she pretty much attacked Peeta after the interviews." Gale smirks. Somewhere in the back of his mind something small breaks and relief floods his thoughts. She pauses, a look of concern filling her eyes. "And the cousin thing. Are you okay?"

He wants to ask what she told her father, but he interprets her look as pity and immediately retreats behind a steely facade. He's already pulling away from the door. His jaw locked, he meets her questioning gaze with a cold glare of his own. "Fine," he spits. He speeds away before she can react, down the steps and out the front door of the Mayor's house, still unaware of how Peeta's declaration will change their lives forever.

* * *

**A/N: A longer one for the insatiable Raissa, this is one take on how Gale gets told about the whole cousin thing. Even though it's referenced as something a Capitol reporter comes up with, here it comes from Haymitch (and/or the Undersees), because I think the Capitol reporters would probably have jumped at the idea of a love triangle. What do you think?**

**(This can be read as a continuation of chapter 5)  
**


	8. The Victors Dinner (CF)

Hazelle looks over her children one more time. They're in their best clothes, the same outfits worn on Reaping Day. Their hair is brushed, their faces washed. Hopefully they are presentable enough. She'd never expected them to be on display like this, but as Katniss' "family", they can at least look presentable and be there to support the Everdeens. Having approved their appearance, she herds her children out of the house and toward tonight's "Victor's Dinner" at the Mayor's house.

Well, three of her children. Gale stalked out of the house about an hour ago, as soon as she allowed it, with his game bag. She made him stay to help wrangle the kids while they all took turns getting cleaned up, but she knew she couldn't force him to go with them. She can't blame him. Peeta's proposal to Katniss had caught them all off guard. Gale shouldn't have to welcome Katniss back home at a dinner with her new fiance. If anyone questions his absence, she'll just say he's home sick.

She thinks she's prepared them for what this will be like, not that she knows exactly what to expect herself. She's told them it might be boring to them because there will be a lot of adults and not many kids. They still remembered the District Holiday soon after Katniss and Peeta returned from the games, and of course the couple of Parcel Days when they've gotten shipments of food that come with living in the winning district. She's sure there will again be an unbelievable spread of food laid out tonight, and hopes her children remember their manners – at least they are pretty well fed these days. Gale can only make it to the woods on Sundays, but Hazelle had saved up some money when Katniss was bringing them game before the Victory Tour. That beaver pelt fetched a good sum at the hob once Hazelle had cured it, too. So the children weren't starving, meaning they might actually behave themselves.

Outside the mayor's house, Hazelle pauses and circles her children in front of her. She looks each one in the eye and tells them, "We are all using our manners tonight, right everyone? It might seem boring, but enjoy the food and have fun, okay? Just … be polite."

Hazelle has just raised her arm to ring the doorbell when the door is swung open by a butler in a fancy suit. He ushers them into the house and says to Hazelle, "May I take your coat ma'am?"

Hazelle fixes a light smile on her face, saying, "thank you" as he helps her with her coat. Then she takes Posy's coat off, collects the boys' coats and hands them over, too.

"But Ma - " Rory begins to protest. Hazelle quiets him with a look, softly pointing out, "Rory, sweetie, we don't need our coats inside." Well, not unless it's so bitterly cold outside that the fire in the hearth can't keep their small home warm, and even the coal stove barely seems able to warm dinner. But it's not that cold, and anyway the Mayor's house, even here by the door, is toasty warm. And the temperature isn't the point.

The butler's face pokes up out of the mountain of coats she's deposited in his arms, and he wordlessly takes them away.

Inside, Hazelle spots the Mellark family and the Everdeens, as well as Haymitch and Effie Trinket. Katniss and Peeta stand by their respective families, Katniss wearing a gorgeous silver gown, Peeta a simple but elegant suit. There are camera crews filming everything. As they enter the room, Mayor Undersee, his daughter at his side, greets them. The only other time the Mayor has spoken to Hazelle was when her husband was killed in the mines. At the time she was beside herself with grief, and overwhelmed with the idea of raising four children on her own. She doesn't remember it well.

"Mrs. Hawthorne, welcome. Thank you for joining us tonight. My daughter Margaret and I are so pleased that you and your family are here, to help us welcome our victors home." He seems genuinely happy to have us in his home. Maybe he's simply enjoying celebrating victors from district 12 rather than strangers from another district. His daughter Margaret, dressed in a lovely white dress, smiles wordlessly from his side.

The Mayor gently proffers his hand, continuing, "Please, enjoy the festivities. There are appetizers and drinks at the buffet. The formal dinner will begin in about twenty minutes. I won't keep you - I'm sure you're anxious to see Katniss and hear about the Victory Tour."

Hazelle gives the Mayor's hand a light squeeze before he releases hers. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor. We're honored to be invited to your lovely home." Just then Posy giggles, hiding shyly behind Hazelle's skirt. Hazelle looks down to realize that the Mayor's daughter has been silently engaging with the young girl with smiles and waves. Hazelle smiles to herself, thinking that tonight will be like Catnip to Posy, if she gets any attention from the older girls.

Looking to the girl standing with the Mayor, Hazelle offers "Margaret, you look lovely tonight. I think your pretty dress has already bewitched my daughter Posy." It's just a simple compliment to her hosts, part of social protocol, but the girl's cheeks turn bright red at Hazelle's comment. Then she seems to remember herself, and responds, "thank you, ma'am. Posy is quite bewitching, herself."

With a smile and nod, the Undersees excuse themselves, and Hazelle leads her family over to join the Everdeens. There's an awkwardness to the gathering, which seems to emanate from the cameras recording every action. Katniss looks too thin, worn and tired, despite her elegant gown which entrances Posy. Hazelle and her children each embrace their "cousin," genuinely glad to see her. Feeling the weight of the cameras on them, Hazelle puts on her best smile and congratulates Katniss on her engagement. She apologizes for Gale's absence, claiming he wasn't feeling well and stayed home in bed. She expects Katniss will see through the lie, but doubts anyone else will question it, if it matters at all.

Rory and Vick are getting antsy, so Hazelle lets them go check out the food along the far wall. Katniss is called away from them, and Prim leads Posy off to find some juice, and get something from the buffet table. Hazelle makes small talk with Mrs. Everdeen, about the weather and the Victory Tour. Nothing of substance. She keeps an eye on the children, but Prim, Posy and the boys have taken over a couch in the corner and are amusing themselves quietly.

Soon, the Mayor begins a speech welcoming the Victors home. A waiter comes by with flutes of sparkling wine while Mayor Undersee prattles on about the history of district 12, the humble coal-mining district, about how proud the district is of Katniss and Peeta, and the strength of their love. Hazelle makes an effort to keep a straight face through it all. He ends with a toast to the newly engaged couple. Peeta makes a short speech of thanks before everyone is invited to the table for the formal dinner. It's there that Hazelle realizes there is not even a place set for Mrs. Undersee. She's heard that the woman is in poor health; she must not be up for this kind of extravaganza.

All in all, Hazelle has to be proud of how her children behave themselves. It's been quite pleasant overall, other than Mrs. Mellark who seems to want to have nothing to do with the Everdeens or Hawthornes. Still, the dinner entails several courses. The boys hold up well, distracted by each course and competing to see who can eat the latest concoction more slowly. Vick spills some red sauce down the front of his shirt, but at least everyone pretends not to notice while Hazelle dabs at it with her wet napkin. However, long before dessert is served, Posy has had enough. Hazelle holds her in her lap, crooning quietly to her little girl whenever she starts fussing. The Mayor and Mr. Mellark are engaged in a boisterous conversation about the Harvest Festival, and Hazelle wonders how much longer this will go on. She smiles apologetically to the Mayor's daughter, who is sitting between Prim and Rory across the table. Margaret smiles back, and lifts her eyes to something behind Hazelle. In a moment, one of the waitresses is at the girl's side as they whisper back and forth. The waitress comes back around the table and directly to Hazelle.

The woman whispers, "Miss Undersee noticed the late hour and wanted to invite your daughter Posy to use her room, if you like, for a nap." Not wanting to disturb the table or attract attention, Hazelle simply nods in agreement. The woman explains, "If you'd like I can take her upstairs, or show you to the room."

Hazelle slips out of her chair as discreetly as possible, and follows the woman out of the dining room, upstairs. The woman leads her to a large bedroom with a bed that's almost as high as her hip. Hazelle gently lays Posy down on the bed, on top of the blanket decorated with blue flowers. Posy stirs, but Hazelle hums quietly to her and comforts her as she slips the shoes off her daughter's feet. Posy drifts off to sleep almost immediately.

The rest of the dinner passes without incident. Vick and Rory begin looking tired themselves, until dessert is served, which perks them up again. When the meal is over, Hazelle collects Posy from upstairs, then thanks the Mayor and his daughter for their hospitality. She says goodnight to Katniss and her family, and turns toward the Seam. Posy is still half asleep, so Hazelle carries her daughter home, while Rory and Vick follow along, debating which course was their favorite.

* * *

**A/N: There's not a lot said in Catching Fire about the Victors' dinner the night before the Harvest Festival, but I'm exploring the interactions between Hazelle and Madge so here's my (Madge-centric) take. **

**As always, comments, criticism & reviews appreciated!  
**


	9. Tesserae (CF)

**A/N: Early update! Thanks to everyone reviewing, following, or simply reading!**

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The cold dank air steals the warmth from his fingers, wrapped around the wooden handle of the pickaxe. His long sleeves are coated in a layer of sweat and coal dust. His muscles ache from the endless hours of mining and hauling coal. The fresh scars on his back scream as they are stretched back and forth with the movements of his arm. The tip of the pickaxe drags along the floor of the mine as Gale tries once more to stand straight in the cramped space and relax his tired muscles.

"One more hour," Thom grunts. "Then we're out of this hole."

By this time of day Gale is almost always grumpy, sick of being stuck in this claustrophobic cave. He grumbles back, "Yeah, a whole twelve hours of freedom until we're back again."

He reluctantly swings his pickaxe into the seam of coal, breaking free new chunks. For inspiration he imagines that he's swinging not at a coal seam but at Peacekeeper Thread.

"Hey, that's plenty of time for you to swing by the old slag heap. Maybe find a pretty face."

Gale guffaws at the notion, briefly attracting some curious glances from the other nearby miners. How many long months has it been since he's taken a girl to the slag heap. Or taken a girl anywhere for that matter. Now, those seem like the good old days. Sometimes he thinks he'd give anything to rewind his life back to last year and stay there - to be back in school with the girls swooning, to breathe the free air of the woods with his Catnip, instead of being trapped here under the earth feeling powerless to help even his own family. Thom, at least, has a girlfriend to take his mind off the mines.

But Gale has plenty to distract himself from the mines, too. His anger at Rory for taking out tesserae. The idea that he is on some sort of list of people Snow is using to blackmail Katniss into … into what? The hope that Katniss … her choice to stay, here in district 12, showed she chose him. She could have still run away with Peeta and her family, but she didn't. It's a ray of hope in the gloom of the mine. The knowledge that another district is rebelling is tantalizing. If only they could overthrow the Capitol and its abuses. But what can he do, stuck here in 12? Who here would fight?

Thom is waggling his eyebrows at Gale with exaggerated good humor. Gale mutters sarcastically, "The slag heap? Yeah, I bet there are lots of babes looking to hook up with exhausted, aching miners."

"Hey, what happened to that Hawthorne charm? You deserve some happiness, man. Don't tell me you're still hung up on _her_."

"Shut it, Thom."

"I'm just saying, you'd be a lot happier if you had a girl to go home to. One that actually cares about _you_. And sisters don't count."

Gale knows Thom thinks he should move on, but it's not that easy. Everything's been changing so fast, and right now Gale feels too tired to even work it out in his mind. Besides, food prices are going up, and now that the woods are off-limits it's taking everything he and his Ma .. and Rory, now ... have in them to keep food on the table. For once he agrees with Katniss, there's no time to think about romance.

To Gale, district 12 feels like an empty, hungry shell of what it was a year ago. He can't hunt. The hob is gone and even the woods are off-limits, especially now with Thread's fortifications on the fence and the changes in policing and enforcement. There were three whippings this week alone, for offenses Gale had forgotten were illegal. Darius disappeared after interfering in Gale's whipping, and the other Peacekeepers had no choice but to enforce Thread's policies. Gale hadn't appreciated how good things had been under the old head Peacekeeper Cray.

Finally the whistle blows and the miners head up into the sunlit afternoon. Fluffy white clouds seem to mock the tired, grimy miner. Above ground, he's reminded of another reason to detest this new district 12.

While he was recovering from the whipping, Rory has taken out tesserae. Today is ration day, so Rory will have brought home the month's grain and oil rations after school. Gale hates to admit how much they need it now, especially with the Parcel Day food arriving rat-infested and spoiled. Gale doesn't want the reminder of his failure to care for his family, or the extra entries his brother will face in the reaping, not just this year but every year, until he's old enough to join Gale in the mines.

But when Gale reaches home, Rory is outside, throwing small rocks at the rain barrel, his face twisted in anger.

Gale tells himself not to take it out on Rory, to be upbeat. "Hey Rory!"

Rory doesn't look at him, just locks his jaw and throws another rock. His eyes are puffy and red.

"Rory? You okay?"

"Go away." Rory mumbles.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Gale's own problems melt into the background as his brother takes center stage in his thoughts. He worries that Rory is thinking of reaping day, too.

"Leave me alone, " Rory insists.

Gale knows better than to push his little brother, so he strips off his coal-coated outer shirt and goes inside, figuring he'll give the boy time to cool off. At least he's letting off steam harmlessly. Maybe Ma knows what's going on.

Inside, Hazelle sits at the table, folding laundry and looking grim. At one end of the table is the bag containing the grain & oil rations. As Gale pushes his boots off his feet, he asks, "Hey Ma, you know why Rory's so upset?"

There's wariness in her eyes when she looks at him, answering, "Gale, I'll tell you but you can't get mad. There's nothing we can do." Gale grudgingly nods, taking the seat across from her.

"I mean it Gale." She looks at him pointedly, then continues, "You remember what happened at Parcel Day? Now it's the tesserae rations. The grain is spoiled, but they sent it home with the kids anyway. Another boy tried to argue and a Peacekeeper took him away. Rory didn't say anything, thank goodness, but now he feels like a coward and thinks it's all his fault."

Gale feels his anger at the Capitol rise up in him. His fists clench under the table.

Hazelle begs him quietly, "Gale, please let it be."

He covers his face with his hands, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Gale doesn't want to let it be. He doesn't want to swallow his anger at the Capitol. How can they do this to innocent kids, innocent families? He wants to punch someone. He wants to burn down the Capitol like they burned down the Hob. He wants to hug Rory and tell him he'll protect him. He wants to be able to go into the woods and bring home dinner again. He wants to fix this. But he knows he can't.

When his hands retreat back to rest on the table, she says as if nothing has happened, "Vick and Posy are supposed to be out in the garden. Will you check on them for me?"

As he walks back outside to the garden, Gale tries to suppress his anger. He's not used to feeling so helpless. But he does what she asks, because family is still the most important thing to him.

He can't help smile when his innocent little sister is in his arms. And he silently swears, as he always does, he'll never let them hurt her.


	10. At the cabin (CF)

**A/N: A really long one - but I couldn't cut it off or break it up. All the dialogue here comes directly from Catching Fire, and are Suzanne Collins' words, not mine. I'm just trying to capture Gale's perspective.**

* * *

As usual I'm up before dawn on Sunday, heading out into the woods.

I haven't seen Katniss since the Victory Tour, since Peeta proposed to her. I don't know if she'll be in the woods today, or even if I want her to be. Of course I want her to be there, she's still my Catnip, right? But I couldn't face the Harvest Festival or that welcome dinner, seeing her with her new fiancé. Ugh, I hate that word. At least in connection to them. Of course I want her to be here. I need her to enlighten me as to how exactly she could possibly want to be engaged to him. She at least owes me some explanation, doesn't she?

I go to our usual meeting place, as I always do, hoping she'll come. As I approach, though, I see she's already come and gone. There's a pair of fur-lined gloves, a flask of hot tea, food and three twigs in the snow, pointing off to the east. It's a message from Katniss, for me to follow. If she wants me to follow, of course I'll go.

Soon into the walk, I hear the unmistakable gobbling of wild turkeys. It's a small group of young males. Just as I take aim with my bow, something startles them and I'm just able to quickly take the largest of them down. I sling the turkey up to my belt as usual, figuring I'll be able to get a good price from Peacekeeper Cray, and continue in the same direction as before, cautious for any sign of whatever startled the gobblers. I'll sell the turkey to Head Peacekeeper Cray. Unlike some families, mine still relies on the snares and hunting for our livelihood, and selling to Cray has the added benefit of lessening the chances he'll ever enforce any of the many laws I'm breaking when I hunt.

By the time I see the old cabin at the lake, and guess this must be where she's led me, I could have finished the snare run. The days are getting short, so the time counts all the more today. I can't imagine why she'd drag me way out here. Whatever it is, it had better be good.

As I approach the cabin, I see the thin wisp of smoke coming from the chimney, though it's mostly obscured by fog and I don't notice it until I'm pretty close. Still, it seems soft for her to build one. She can't have been here long. Can't she stand a little cold anymore? The window on this side of the cabin is broken. I wonder how she knows about this place, if it's something her father showed her or if she found it on her own. She's never told me about it, so I'm guessing her dad brought her. Otherwise she'd have told me, right? I didn't think we kept secrets from each other out here. This just reminds me of how much it seems she's kept from me recently, and fuels my anger and frustration at everything I've been through over her.

I'm in the doorway about to tear into her for dragging me out here, for coming out here in the woods when she doesn't have to, for being only halfway present, for agreeing to marry that baker boy when she should know I'm the one who truly loves her, when she blurts out, "President Snow personally threatened to have you killed."

Well, that's not what I expected. But this is Panem, and I can't think of anything too low for our President. Still, how am I supposed to interpret that?

"Anyone else? I ask, obstinately.

When she mentions our families, though, I have to relinquish some of the bitterness. I know Katniss would do anything for Prim, and I'm the same - the idea of my family singled out pulls me up short. I'd never hold that against her.

"Unless what?" I ask, still not understanding.

"Unless nothing, now." She doesn't even try to explain. What's wrong with her? What am I supposed to do with that?

After a few minutes, it seems clear she's got nothing else, or if she does, she doesn't know how to tell me. There's nothing I can do about any of this, it's so useless I can't help but apply my usual sarcasm, so I quip, "Well, thanks for the heads-up."

She turns and I hope she sees I'm trying, desperately, to find a reason to stay. She smiles at me, and a little of the tension breaks. "I do have a plan, you know." She says.

"Bet it's a stunner" I snark, tossing the gloves to her. I don't want them. "Here. I don't want your fiance's old gloves." I almost choke on the word fiancé.

"He's not my fiancé. That's just part of the act. And these aren't his gloves. They were Cinna's." Finally she says something that makes some kind of sense. I'm relieved the engagement isn't real.

Naturally, I take the gloves back. They are luxurious, something we wouldn't even be able to buy here in district 12, even if we could afford them. And I have nothing against Cinna.

Then Katniss lays it on me. Snow's anger about the trick with the berries, the visit to her house, the fact that he knows about the kiss. The kiss – the very reminder embarrasses me, let alone knowing that Snow knows about that kind of stuff here.

Back on that first day I saw her after the games, things seemed to be getting back to normal between us. It had been so long since we'd been alone together, she had always been surrounded by her camera crews and whatnot. I knew I had to tell her how I felt, while I still had a chance, with the whole Peeta thing and her being a victor now. Until that day I hadn't even gotten to talk with her alone. So before we went back into town, while she was rambling about taking over the snare run, I just did it. I kissed her.

It was weird, though. She hadn't exactly kissed me back, but she hadn't pushed me away either. In my experience, it's usually one or the other, and you know where you stand. But not Katniss. So I'd just told her, "I had to do that, at least once" before I stalked off to lick my wounds. I hadn't dared bring it up again. I kept hoping she would. She still came to the woods, and I knew she wasn't spending time with Peeta. I thought maybe she just needed time. So I pretended nothing had happened and waited, still trying figure out what she wanted from me, hoping she would see that we belonged together, but she never said anything. She never came for me, never told me what she thought or felt toward me. And then there was the Victory Tour, and there she was on Peeta's arm again. I couldn't bear it.

I can't look at her thinking about that kiss, so I tuck the gloves in my pocket and empty out the bag of food Katniss had left. It's late enough, we might as well have some lunch, and I need to be doing something with my hands.

She says the engagement was just the last attempt to pacify Snow, but it failed.

I stop her once she's covered the whole victory tour. She says she's not done, but I'm not sure I could absorb any more.

"Let's skip ahead to this plan of yours," I suggest. It's what I care about. I need to know what she wants from me.

"We run away."

"What?" I'm completely stunned. Did I hear right? She wants to run away? Together?

"We take to the woods and make a run for it. You said yourself you thought that we could do it! That morning of the reaping. You said—"

I lock my arms around her and pull her off her feet, cutting her off. She wants to run away. With me, just like I'd suggested. Like I'd been wanting to do for so long. I laugh with the surprise of it, spinning her in my arms.

"Okay, let's run away." I agree, elated.

"Really? You don't think I'm mad? You'll go with me?" She asks as if she still doubts me. How could she still doubt me? Haven't I been here all along waiting for her?

"I do think you're mad and I'll still go with you. We can do it. I know we can." I declare. "Let's get out of here and never come back!" I've never been so sure of anything. She's choosing me, just when I thought she was turning away, she's brought me out here to tell me, in her own strange and wonderful way, that she wants to be with me.

She wants me to be sure, because we both know how hard it will be with the kids, but I've thought about that before, and our families can handle themselves. Katniss' mom will probably have it the hardest, but I watched a lot of the games with her and Prim, and I know they'll go along with it. And we'll help them. I know we can do it.

"I'm sure. I'm completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure." I assure her, pulling her into me, lowering my forehead to hers. My Katniss, my Catnip. It's such a perfect moment, I can't help myself. "I love you," I whisper.

It's a mistake. After a tense pause, she says, "I know." Which is about the last response I'm looking for. It hits me right in the heart, and I let go of her.

She grabs my hand, repeating, "I know! And you… you know what you are to me."

I pull out of her grasp, because I guess I do know what I am to her. I'm a hunting partner. I'm a friend, at best. But she's never shown the slightest indication of anything more. The cold truth cuts through all my daydream fantasies.

Uncharacteristically, she keeps talking. "Gale, I can't think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, every waking minute since they drew Prim's name at the reaping, is how afraid I am. And there doesn't seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don't know."

I don't want her to be afraid, I really don't. I want to comfort her, but obviously that's not going to work. I don't know if I can do this, not right now. It would be terrible to go to the games. I try to remember that. But even that reminds me of all those hours she spent with Peeta in that cave. She didn't seem too afraid then. I don't know how love works for her, but for me it's not something I have to think about. It's just there, whether I think about it or not. I turn back to the fire, trying to hide my devastation. But I can't turn away from the barest hope that she might still want me. I choke out, "So we'll go. We'll find out." Then I change the topic to something easier to handle, convincing my mom to come.

She thinks her mom won't want to go either, but I know she'll go, if that's what Katniss wants, and I tell her so.

I think I've found some new balance between us, at least to get through this conversation. I can deal with logistics. I can set aside my feelings and give her time. Again. At least, I thought I could until she brings up Haymitch.

"Haymitch? You're not asking him to come with us?" I ask accusingly. She's not talking about my plan to run off together. She's got her own plan. But it's when she says _his_ name that I can't contain hold on to the dim hope anymore.

"What?" she says, as if she has no idea why I'd be upset learning that she wants her pretend fiancé running off with us.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize how large our party was," I snap angrily. I can't help it. I can't help my jealousy, after having to watch the two of them, cuddled up in the cave together, the Victory Tour, everything. All those kisses.

How can she think it's a good idea to take Mellarks into the woods? When I warn her about the all-too-true dangers of inviting the Mellarks to the woods, and ask her what happens if Peeta decides to stay, her voice cracks when she says, "then he stays." She does love him. Or, like him, at least. I don't want to know, but I can't stop myself.

"And me, would you leave me? Just if, for instance, I can't convince my mother to drag three young kids into the wilderness in winter."

"Hazelle won't refuse. She'll see sense," Katniss says avoiding the real issue.

It's unbelievable. She can't even give me a real answer. She still won't .. or can't … choose between us. How can she let the Capitol decide her life for her like this? Anger possesses me completely. "Suppose she doesn't, Katniss. What then?"

"Then you have to force her, Gale." She argues angrily back at me. "Do you think I'm making this stuff up?"

My jaw clenches. She's not making it up, but that's not the point! Why can't she see that? "No. I don't know. Maybe the president's just manipulating you. I mean, he's throwing your wedding. You saw how the Capitol crowd reacted. I don't think he can afford to kill you. Or Peeta. How's he going to get out of that one?" I ask accusingly.

She practically shouts back,"Well, with an uprising in District Eight, I doubt he's spending much time choosing my wedding cake!"

An uprising? What? An uprising would change everything. It's what I've waited for my whole life. Suddenly I'm completely quiet. "There's an uprising in Eight?"

"I don't know if it's really an uprising. There's unrest. People in the streets—" Katniss says – I can see she didn't mean to tell me. She knows how I feel about the Capitol, why would she hide this from me?

I grab her by the shoulders, solemnly asking, "What did you see?"

"Nothing!" she squeaks. "In person. I just heard something. I saw something on the mayor's television. I wasn't supposed to. There was a crowd, and fires, and the Peacekeepers were gunning people down but they were fighting back…" She bites her lip, looking for a way out, but I'm hanging on her every word again.

"And it's my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would've happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe, too," she cries.

Her fault? Doesn't she see this is what we need? How could she want to be dead, to think we'd be better off if she'd killed herself in the arena? I mean I hate the very idea of those berries, but they got her home. She's alive. And now she thinks it would have been better to die and send Peeta home? How can she think that? How can she feel blame for the uprising, because she wouldn't die? An uprising doesn't mean saving one life. It means real change. It would mean our families never facing reapings again. Yes, people will die, but we die anyway – we die of starvation, we die in the mines, we die in their cursed hunger games.

But somehow she doesn't see that. She just sees more bloodshed. This is what she's been carrying around, alone. This is why she doesn't "have time" to think about love.

"Safe to do what?" I ask quietly. I have to make her see that if she sparked the districts to action, it's a gift, not a curse. I spend my whole life trying to protect Vick and Rory and Posy, just like she would do anything for Prim. But I thought I'd be watching reapings for years just praying they don't get called. Even with the talk in the mines, I hadn't really grasped the potential.

"Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven't hurt people—you've given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. There's already been talk in the mines. People who want to fight. Don't you see? It's happening!" I can't keep the excitement from my voice. "It's finally happening! If there's an uprising in District Eight, why not here? Why not everywhere? This could be it, the thing we've been—"

"Stop it!" she interrupts. "You don't know what you're saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they're not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people—they mean less than nothing to them!"

"That's why we have to join the fight!" I insist.

She yells back desperately, "No! We have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!" Why is she so adamant? Can't she see what this means?

I can't make her see it. She's heard all my arguments against the Capitol before, a million times. I thought she agreed. But I know that if she wants to run away right when there's hope for an uprising, she doesn't see what I do. I push her away from me. "You leave, then. I'd never go in a million years."

She still argues, "You were happy enough to go before. I don't see how an uprising in District Eight does anything but make it more important that we leave. You're just mad about—" She cuts herself off, too late. And I am, I am mad, but right now I'm mad because she doesn't want the uprisings, doesn't understand what they could mean. "What about your family?" she asks.

"What about the other families, Katniss?" I push back, disgusted that she can't see the bigger picture. "The ones who can't run away? Don't you see? It can't be about just saving us anymore. Not if the rebellion's begun!"

Katniss, with those berries, she admitted herself that she sparked this. Even President Snow thinks so, that's the only reason he's trying to manipulate her. I shake my head at her, pleading, "You could do so much."

But my words don't move her. She's not interested in the uprising, just in saving herself and her precious friends. She's not the same, she's not my Catnip. Snow's manipulations have changed her, turned her into a ghastly shell of the old Katniss. I throw the gloves in her face, spitting out, "I changed my mind. I don't want anything they made in the Capitol."

I take off back into the woods. She's wasting my time talking about running away when what we need to be doing is organizing our own uprising. Would the miners rebel against the Capitol? I know some of them would. Would it be enough?

I'm not interested in hunting now, but I force myself to stop at enough snares to collect a couple of rabbits for my family. I race back through the woods, depositing my bow and arrows in their usual hollow log. I take the rabbits to Ma, and hurry out again. I'll explain things to her later. I still have the wild turkey, anyway. I might as well sell it to Cray. I'll get whatever pennies from him I can before we're on opposite sides of a war.

I stride confidently through the Seam, my mind already racing with who to go to first, how we can unite the miners in a revolt. I head straight to Peacekeeper Cray's lodgings, knocking loudly on the door. Then the door opens, and I'm looking into the unfamiliar black eyes of a new head Peacekeeper.


	11. Gratitude (CF)

**A/N: Thanks to Belle453 for the inspiration and the Beta.**

* * *

It's Saturday, but Hazelle checks in on Haymitch anyway. She's been working for Haymitch for a couple of weeks now. She's glad Katniss arranged it - and not just for the income. Haymitch doesn't take care of himself, and it's not right that Katniss and Peeta should have to do it. They're still so young themselves. Gale's back is healed enough that he's returned to his work in the mines. Hazelle still hates to think about Gale stuck in the same job that killed her husband, but there's no other choice.

Posy, fortunately, has recovered from the measles thanks to the medicine Mrs. Everdeen sent. Today she's entrusted Rory to watch over Vick and Posy, since she won't be gone too long. Hopefully Rory and Vick won't burn the house down while she's out.

On her way home, for the second time this week, she veers off the most direct path and walks the route past the Mayor's home.

She's always thinking about that night. Her family and the Everdeens' have been linked for ages through Katniss and Gale's friendship. Hazelle is used to debts passing between the families, when each is in need, like when Gale took game to the Everdeens when Katniss was in the arena. Hazelle appreciates Mrs. Everdeen taking care of Gale on the night of the whipping. She's grateful, and she'll do whatever she can for them as well, but she understands Mrs. Everdeen's actions.

But that night, Gale may not have made it without that morphling. Every day, Hazelle remembers those vials. She's tried to imagine the Mayor's daughter that night, fighting her way through that vicious snowstorm, bringing medicine for Gale. What was Gale to her? A classmate, a friend of a friend, what more?

Everyone knew about Mrs. Undersee's headaches. The rumor mill didn't paint the Mayor's wife in a very kind light. Hazelle remembers how the Mayor's wife was absent from the Victor's dinner. Later she had chalked it up to the woman having lost her twin sister in the games - it couldn't be easy for her to welcome the victors - and Haymitch - into her home. So she hadn't thought much of it, but if they had that kind of medicine on hand, then her pain must be more serious than the rumors allowed. No surprise there.

And surely they would have noticed if that sort of medicine just disappeared … which meant that either the Undersees had allowed their daughter to bring the medicine, or it was their idea to send her.

Hazelle didn't know much about the Mayor and his family. But ever since Gale was whipped, she's been thinking about the Undersees. She remembers the old days when whippings and harsh punishments were common, as they are becoming again under Thread's reign. But sometime, years ago, those punishments had slowly become less and less common. She can't even place when it happened. Had Mayor Undersee had a hand in it? He had certainly turned a blind eye to any number of illicit but harmless activities - like her son's - for years, maybe even tacitly approving, considering his family buys strawberries from Gale and Katniss. For years now, the district officials and district Peacekeepers have chosen to ignore most offenses to the Capitol that weren't really any harm.

Thread was a return to those old forgotten miseries, but then the Mayor's daughter had brought morphling to Gale, the very first victim of Thread's new reign. Surely the Mayor wouldn't have allowed it if he approved of Gale's whipping. And they had seemed genuine and caring at that dinner her family had attended before the Harvest Festival.

She doesn't understand why Margaret brought the morphling. But even so, she wants to thank them somehow. If nothing else, she needs to express her gratitude to them.

Again, she hesitates as she reaches the fence that marks the Undersee's property. She's only been in the Mayor's house once before, for the dinner at the end of Katniss and Peeta's victory tour.

Her family has already been through the ringer. Would there be talk simply from her appearing on the Mayor's doorstep? Could it do her family harm? It's hard to see how it would. And anyway, she needs to do what's right, if nothing else to at least acknowledge their gift.

With a deep breath, she pushes through the front gate and walks up to the Mayor's door. She stands there for a moment, trying to stop the shaking in her hands. She doesn't enjoy turning up uninvited at any house in the town, let alone the Mayor's. The lovely sounds of a piano filter through the door. Are they playing recorded music? There's no point standing here in the cold, making a spectacle of herself. After a deep breath, she raises her hand and knocks soundly on the door.

The music stops. Hazelle twists her hands as she waits. In a moment, the door opens and Margaret Undersee stands before her.

"Good afternoon. May I help you?" she asks.

Hazelle feels tongue-tied, unsure of how to proceed. Behind the girl, Hazelle notices the piano.

She can't stop herself from asking the girl. "Was that you? Playing the piano?"

The girl looks slightly confused, but answers, "Yes, ma'am."

"That was lovely, dear. I've never heard such beautiful music."

"Thank you" Madge replies, her cheeks slightly pink. Then asks, "Oh! Won't you come in? Please, it's so cold out today. Where are my manners." Madge steps aside, inviting Hazelle into the foyer.

Once Hazelle steps into the wide foyer, murmuring, "Thank you. I'm sorry to come uninvited..."

Madge continues, "Can I get you something to drink? A cup of tea maybe?"

Hazelle shakes her head. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, Margaret, I just …"

"It's Madge, please."

"I'm sorry, Madge. I didn't mean to interrupt your afternoon …"

"No, it's no interruption, Mrs. Hawthorne. To be honest, I think I've been through my entire songbook twice today." Madge laughs weakly.

Hazelle is used to having to read children. Madge may be almost an adult, not much younger than Gale, but she is still a child in many ways. Hazelle recognizes the loneliness Madge is hiding, and acts on impulse.

"Actually, a cup of tea would be lovely. And please, call me Hazelle."

Madge seems more comfortable now, and leads Hazelle through the imposing house to a large, pristine kitchen. At a large greenhouse window, a small table with three chairs overlooks the back yard.

Hazelle sits uncertainly at the table while Madge busies herself in the kitchen. Madge brings over the plate of cookies and a prepared tray with several teas and a small pot of honey. Then she fetches the mugs and fills them with hot water before sitting down to the table. As she pours hot water from a teapot on the stove, she says "I'm sorry Mrs. .. Hazelle, the Mayor is still at his office. I'm not sure when he'll be home, so if …"

Hazelle interrupts her, "Oh, no Madge. I'm sure the Mayor is very busy. I don't mean to be a bother."

Madge carefully brings the mugs over to the table, placing one in front of Hazelle. As Hazelle drops a teabag into the water, Madge blinks back at her.

"It's no bother. It's just … well usually when people come here it's to see the Mayor. I just assumed …"

Hazelle smiles at the girl. "Oh, no. I'm sorry. I just wanted to thank you. For doing what you did, for Gale. You can't know what it means to me, to our family."

A panicked expression crosses Madge's face. "Oh - You didn't … tell him, did you?"

Hazelle can only think of one reason why Madge would react so strangely. "No, I haven't, there's just been so much lately. I don't think he knows, but ... "

"Good!" Madge says quickly. "Please, don't? I don't want him to know." After a pause she asks, "Is he okay?"

Despite her feeling that Madge already knows how Gale is doing, Hazelle answers, "Yes, honey. He's much better, thanks to you, and Mrs. Everdeen. I just … I am so grateful to you. I wanted you to know that."

Madge's eyes drop to her tea, her face reddening. "It was nothing. He's Katniss' best friend. Thread … nobody even knew he was coming. Daddy had just found out. There wasn't time to warn anyone. And we had the morphling. It was only right to help, if we could. It wasn't fair for - for your family to suffer." Madge blanches at some thought she doesn't share, maybe recalling something from that day.

Hazelle can see that Gale means more to her than a friend of a friend. She likes him, but still doesn't want him to feel indebted to her. The mayor raised his daughter well. Hazelle doesn't want to make her any more uncomfortable on that topic, so she says, "That's so sweet of you, dear. But it was far more than most would have done. Your parents must be very proud to have such a caring daughter."

Madge doesn't answer, so Hazelle asks gently, "The morphling was your mother's?"

Madge nods in response.

Again, something in Madge compels Hazelle to reach out to her. "How is she?"

"She's fine." Madge replies automatically, looking out the window. Hazelle reaches for and touches Madge's hand, resting beside her mug. Madge looks to her, then down at the table with a sad smile. "Well, not really. Some days she's alright. Other days ... well, the morphling helps."

Hazelle knows there are no good words when someone you love is suffering. Her heart goes out to this girl who has to see her mother in pain. "I'm so sorry."

Madge shrugs and looks back to the window.

They sit in silence for awhile, sipping their tea.

Hazelle wonders what the girl's life is like. There's been no indication of anyone else in the house. Mrs. Undersee rarely leaves the house, and must be here somewhere, probably in a bedroom upstairs, dosed on morphling. She knows the Mayor has a staff, but if they are here they must be with Mrs. Undersee. And the Mayor, well as Madge said, he's at the office all day, even on a Saturday. It must be a demanding job, Mayor of the district. And he's practically a single father on top of it? Is this what the girl's days are like? Stuck in this big empty house alone, with a mother too debilitated to take care of her daughter? Hazelle's heart goes out to her. She wishes she could give Madge the warmth and comfort of family that seems to be missing in this big lonely house. Part of her even wonders what it would be like, Gale & Madge dating, Madge at their dinner table in the Seam. But in a place like this, how could the Mayor approve of his daughter dating a coal miner? And who's to say if Gale will ever get over his prejudices, to be able to see someone like Madge for who she really is.

When her tea is drained, Hazelle knows she must get home to her family. She wishes there was something she could do for this quiet, brave girl.

"I don't mean to overstep, but if you ever need anything, will you let me know?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Hawthorne. I'll be okay."

There's nothing Hazelle can do. "Well, I can't thank you – and your family - enough. Please thank your parents for me."

"I will," Madge nods.

Madge walks Hazelle to the front door and says goodbye. Hazelle gives her a gentle hug, trying to keep the tears at bay. Then she turns, and walks back toward the street. It's time to get back to her own children. Right now she feels an overwhelming need to remind them just how much she loves them.

* * *

**A/N: I have to admit, I've read other takes on this exchange and am not the first to have these two share cups of tea. I hope you like this version. I think they're both in somewhat unfamiliar territory here. Madge would feel pretty awkward around Gale's mom - especially if she has feelings for him. What do you think?  
**


	12. A new home (MJ)

**A/N: A short monologue. Won't be posting anything more until ~ Feb 7.**

* * *

I wish we could do more to brighten up our new home. It's pretty drab really. There are plenty of things I miss about district 12; looking out the window to see the kids playing outside is just one of many. Our new home is stunning in it's technological achievements. They've accomplished so much in order to stay alive here. Still, that doesn't mean it's easy to get used to. Everything runs with military precision here and we're all expected to keep up. I'm most grateful for reflection time before dinner, when my family is usually together and I get to hear about their days. Today Gale will be the only one missing.

Vick and Rory seem to be adjusting okay. It's been harder on Vick, who doesn't know many of the kids in his class. A few friends of Rory's made it out of district 12, so he at least has some kids to play with. Rory likes school here better, too. He says they're actually teaching useful things and it´s not all about coal and the Capitol. Both boys, along with many of the kids from district 12, are assigned to an extra class after their regular school gets out, to help them catch up on what students here their age have learned.

There's even a school for Posy, though it's shorter hours and they mostly play and learn letters and numbers. Because of Posy and being a ´single parent´, my work hours are limited to during her school hours. District 13 has assigned me to the laundry service, which I don't mind. After all, I do have the background for it. Here we have large machines that do most of the washing, so it's mostly a matter of loading machines, pressing and folding, for me.

The first two weeks we were rotated through the different jobs in the washing room to see where we showed the most aptitude, and I've been placed in pressing and folding. Their laundry presses took some getting used to, as they are very different from my little iron I used in district 12. Still I don't mind the work and learned long ago the satisfaction of ending the day with a large pile of clean laundry.

At first I was uncomfortable with working such short hours. Now I'm used to being able to spend time with Posy before the boys get home from school. Back home, I always had Posy with me all the time but I was usually busy with the laundry service, cooking dinner, or any of the thousand other things needed to keep the family together.

Out of all the strange new things we are getting used to, the strangest part is not preparing our own meals. At home, I prepared a dinner from Gale's game every day until the last few months. Now we eat in the cafeteria like everyone else, at our family's allotted time. It's like we're no longer an independent family but one cog in a giant machine. I'm not sure what will happen to my family here. Everything feels so strange.

Posy and I are home in our unit playing 'I remember.' Perhaps I shouldn't encourage her to think about out past lives in district 12, considering how well she's adjusting to our new lives. But I can't help it. We pick a topic, and try to remember everything about that topic from district 12. Then we talk about how it's different here in 13. I just want her to remember our family traditions. She's so young, she could forget her whole life in district 12 if we let her. I just can't allow it. So today we talk about dinner. How she used to help me set the table, and how different the cafeteria is. I can see she's already forgetting things. How do I know what to remind her, what's worth hanging on to and what she's better off forgetting? It would be easy enough to let her forget he painful parts of life in 12, but I know that's not right. It's much harder than that. So we play our game, and I help her remember.

Tomorrow Gale is escorting Katniss to district 12. I'm sure it will be hard on him to see it again, and devastating for her, so I guess I´m glad he wants to be there for her. Still, I worry for Gale. He's so invested in Katniss. Now that the Capitol is holding Peeta prisoner, I don't know what will happen with them.

Gale wants Katniss to become the symbol of the rebellion. She practically is already, but the rebels want her to be a spokesperson of a sort. I think she's too young to have so much expected of her. I'm afraid of what it will do to her, and what that will do to Gale. He's so young an idealistic. He thinks everything about the Capitol is wrong, and anything the rebels do must be right. He looks up to Beetee and Boggs and President Coin, I can tell. And he's been so busy with their defense meetings and training and Katniss, I feel like I've hardly seen him since we arrived here. I have of course - he almost always eats meals with us. But I still feel like he's slipping away from me.


	13. Visit to District Two (MJ)

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and especially for the reviews! I have to apologize for all the typos in the last chapter - hopefully I've corrected most of them. This one-shot includes scenes and dialogue taken directly from Suzanne Collins' work - it's not mine, and this is just my interpretation of her work.**

* * *

When I hug Ma goodbye, she hold me tightly before allowing me to pull away, and when she releases me there are tears in her eyes. "Ma, it'll be okay," I gripe, "I'm not even going into combat." She nods, pressing her lips together in a thin line, surely holding back the tears. "I'll be back in a few days. I love you," I continue, before swinging my pack up to my shoulder. She places her hands on either side of my face, kisses my forehead, and says, "Stay safe, Gale." I duck my head and step out the door of our unit.

I meet Beetee and the others at the hovercraft that will take us to district two. I'm excited about the trip, but also anxious, for both the war and for seeing Katniss.

When Katniss left two weeks ago, I tried to go with her but she wouldn't allow it. She claimed they needed me here in district 13, but I couldn't help but feel she was pushing me away again. Then I heard Beetee was assembling a group to go to district two and strategize about taking down "the nut," so of course I wanted to go. Beetee's been teaching me so much about strategic analysis and the rebel war. He thinks I have real potential, and I couldn't help but be proud when he picked me to come on this mission. It's a little funny to be lumped in with the "brains." If only my teachers could see this - I wasn't exactly a model student, back in district 12.

But district 13 has given me new purpose, and working with Beetee is entirely different than school or the mines. I'm really learning from the Victor, in our many hours spent in Special Defense. Beetee encourages me and shows me how to apply instinct and my knowledge about hunting and snares to new puzzles and problems. Like those hummingbirds. I'm actually working with these rebels to take down the Capitol - it's what I've dreamed of my whole life, but never thought possible.

Yesterday, after Beetee told me I was going, I immediately thought about Katniss. Before I knew it I was behind the one-way glass in Peeta's hospital room, watching him. He's so changed, it's hard even for me to see him. From what Haymitch has said, Peeta is still completely deranged. The Capitol really messed him up. It's selfish but I couldn't help thinking that I'll never have a chance with Katniss if he doesn't get better. But I know there's nothing I can do. I love her, and I just have to wait and see what she decides.

I'm glad I'll get to see Katniss, though I still don't know how she'll react to seeing me. There's a permanent knot in my stomach that reminds me of how I felt when she left for district two.

When the hovercraft lands in district two, Beetee tells us to take what's left of the afternoon to get settled in and we'll meet in the morning. We're in one of the villages surrounding district two, near an old mine. Immediately I ask around and find Katniss sitting on a log, plucking geese at the edge of the village.

I again remind myself I can't expect anything from her. While we pluck the geese, I admit to her what I thought when I saw Peeta. When she tells me she had felt wrong kissing him because of me, she seems to actually mean it. It's almost enough. But then she says I'm right about Peeta. I know she's been through more than she ever should have to face, and I've committed myself to being here for her, for doing absolutely anything I can for her, no matter what. That doesn't make it any less exasperating how ambivalent she is.

We offer to help collect kindling, and her words about feeling guilty kissing Peeta keep repeating in my head as we wander off together into the woods here in district 2. I think of all those kisses she and Peeta shared in the arena, and her lack of response the one time I tried to kiss her back in district twelve. I'd caught her off guard and unprepared, obviously, when I'd kissed her out of the blue like that. And no matter how natural it felt to me to tell her I love her, that had apparently come as a shock to her too. Now she's had time to think about the idea, and she essentially just admitting some kind of feeling for me, right? She wasn't all Peeta's – there was some part of her that was still mine.

Once we've mostly filled our arms with wood, I suggest a break before we head back to the village, and Katniss agrees readily. The temperature is already starting to drop up here in the mountains. We find a downed tree and I drop to the ground, leaning against it in the fading daylight. "It's getting cold," I say to her, and reach for her hand, pulling her down to sit with me. This time I know she knows how I feel, but I know I still can't expect anything from her.

She's so beautiful. I wrap my arms around her, keeping her warm. I let myself absorb the feel of her warm body so close and her familiar smell. Gently I lower my head and lightly kiss the bruises on her neck. The bruises are fading and wouldn't hurt physically anymore, but I wish I could heal the anguish they've caused her. When we went to rescue Peeta, we had no idea that the Peeta we'd be bringing back was designed to torture Katniss.

When she starts to shift in my arms, I think she's going to pull away again and immediately regret being so selfish, thinking about my needs right now and not hers. But she doesn't pull away. She turns toward me, her gray seam eyes meeting mine, looking lost.

This time I'm the one caught off guard. She leans into me and closes her eyes, and there is nothing that could stop me from kissing her in this moment. This time, she kisses back. I'm lost in the feeling, savoring the kiss, the press of her lips on mine. I keep her wrapped in my arms and pull her into me. My heart races as she responds to my touch and my lips, the woman I love in my arms like I've imagined for so long.

As my shock at her reaction wears off, her earlier ambivalence nags my thoughts. My body says to ignore it. Part of me wants to forget it, to keep reveling in this moment with her, but I can't. This isn't the slag heap, and this isn't just any girl. I realize that somehow, even this close, Katniss still feels distant. It doesn't make any sense to me. Is she still thinking about Peeta? I pull back, looking at her face, which seems devoid of any feeling. She tries to continue the kiss, and I have to force myself to stop her. "Katniss," I say, and she blinks up at me, seeming confused. I shift so she's sitting in front of me. I watch her for a minute, as she seems to remember where we are. She touches her hand to her scar, something she usually does when she's confused by something. I don't want her confused by this.

"Now kiss me" I say. I press my lips to hers again, briefly, forcing myself to keep control. I pull back and examine her face again. I need her to understand her own feelings, whatever they are. I can't accuse her though, or she'll just get defensive. Gently, I ask her, "What's going on in your head?"

"I don't know," she says. She's perfectly willing to kiss me, but it doesn't mean to her what it means to me. If even she doesn't know what she's thinking, I can't take advantage of her confusion.

I sigh sadly. "Then it's like kissing someone who's drunk. It doesn't count." I try to laugh it off, to make a joke of it to hide my hurt, but it's forced. Instead I stand up and start picking up the collected wood. I drop a pile of kindling into her arms, accepting that she's not ready for me yet, mentally returning us both to district two. Me, from my runaway imagination. Katniss, from who knows where.


	14. Lunch with the prep team (MJ)

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**

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I've got the kids settled down for lunch at our table in the dining hall. I'm keeping an eye out for Gale, hoping he'll join us, when Katniss appears with her prep team. Gale is not with them. Katniss is clean and polished for her new role in the rebellion, so changed from the girl we knew in 12, though her team looks like worn out and pale versions of their old selves. They attract everyone's attention, as people from 13 gape openly, pointing rude fingers at the group from the Capitol. I catch Vick's expression of embarrassment as the group heads our way with food trays, and quickly remind him to mind his manners. I will not allow my children to show such boorish behavior.

I haven't seen much of my oldest son recently - it seems he is always busy with Katniss and Special Defense. Gale was recruited into Special Defense as soon as Haymitch realized he was the only one who could get through to Katniss, back when we all arrived here in 13. If he's not in training or working in the Defense Department, he's with Katniss. At least we see him at mealtimes and during reflection before dinner, so he gets a little time with his siblings. It's not much considering he officially lives in our unit; he often disappears after dinner and doesn't come home until so late that everyone else is asleep.

Yesterday before the public announcement of Katniss' agreement to being the Mockingjay & symbol of the rebellion, Gale told me about the deal she made with Coin. The way his jaw locked I could tell he resented some of her conditions … for immunity for the other victors … there's no doubt it was Peeta in particular bothering him. The hormones of adolescence, the pangs of first loves – those are hard enough without shouldering the expectations of a rebellion. How I wish I could shield him from this madness.

They found her prep team imprisoned in a lower level of the district – I ran into Mrs. Everdeen who told me about their poor condition, their visit to her in the hospital area, Katniss' ire over their abuse. It's a sad reminder that even if we are supposed to be free of the Capitol, the same abuses can happen here. Gale wouldn't understand Katniss' attachment to her prep team, since he has such little patience and perspective for anything connected to the Capitol. He sees everything in the rebellion as black or white, good or bad, with no room for anything in between. He was in a terrible mood when he came back to the unit last night; I knew he and Katniss must have fought. They didn't sit together or talk at breakfast, so I expect he'll be in just as foul a mood when I see him next.

On a positive note, Gale will get to go hunting with Katniss now - it was another of her conditions for being the Mockingjay. Maybe that will be a respite for him. I hope that their time hunting in the woods does him some good - he was always more relaxed, more himself after being out in the woods outside district 12.

When Katniss and her prep team sit down to join us, there's a strain at the table but at least nobody is outright rude. Leevy, one of Katniss' old neighbors, cautiously says hello to the newcomers. Hoping to help ease the tension, I take a spoonful of the okra stew and tell them, "Don't worry - tastes better than it looks." They don't look reassured. I'm sure it's nothing compared to what they were used to in the Capitol but it's food, anyway.

Before I can stop her, Posy slides down the bench to the closest of the three - the one with the green skin, which looks terrible in the fluorescent light of the dining hall. What's her name again?

Posy pokes the woman's skin tentatively. "You're green," she says. "Are you sick?"

I hold back a chuckle at my daughter's outspokenness. Katniss explains, "It's a fashion thing, Posy. Like wearing lipstick."

Tears well in the woman's eyes. I wish I could remember her name. Octiana? Ortavia? She whispers, "it's mean to be pretty."

My sympathetic Posy considers this a minute before answering, "I think you'd be pretty in any color."

The woman smiles, ever so slightly, and the group relaxes just a bit. Just then Gale plops his tray down next to Katniss and declares, "If you really want to impress Posy, you'll have to dye yourself bright pink. That's her favorite color."

I chuckle quietly as Posy giggles at her brothers' interjection, and scoots back down the bench to me. While I encourage her into another bite of the overcooked fish, Gale warns the man with orange ringlets about the consistency of the stew as it cools. Okra isn't his favorite. I won't even try it with Posy.

Gale makes an obvious effort to keep the conversation going with the prep team. Perhaps it's a concession to Katniss, a way to mend fences. He even asks about the make-over, which I know he isn't actually interested in. He doesn't even like the idea of what they do to Katniss, though at least this time he'll approve of the cause. Perhaps it helps, because Katniss and Gale leave together for their session in Special Defense. I watch them go, wishing it wasn't into the middle of a war. Then Posy tugs on my sleeve, and it's time to get the kids to their scheduled activities for the afternoon.

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**FYI If you catch any inconsistencies with Canon (in any chapter) let me know :)**


	15. Reunion in 13 (CF-MJ)

**A/N: Soon after Gale and the other survivors arrive in 13 ...**

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There's a district 13.

There's a DISTRICT 13! And I'm there! Here. I can't believe it.

They're on our side. They're helping the rebellion. It's a real rebellion now, just like I've hoped for, and now I'm going to get to join the fight. After my run in with Thread, and the added security, it had been hard to imagine anything happening in district twelve. Still the idea of uprisings in other districts tormented me. I wanted badly to find out what was happening, but there was no way to know.

They rescued Katniss, too. She's alive. She's HERE.

When the hovercraft appeared in the woods, I was terrified. I remembered that day long ago when Katniss and I saw the Capitol hovercraft take that boy and girl, unable to do anything to help them. The boy killed.

But it wasn't like that. For one thing, the hovercraft had no Capitol emblem. It landed and armed guards had escorted out Haymitch. Haymitch! And the armed guards weren't Peacekeepers, their uniforms were completely foreign to me.

Haymitch started talking with some of the older men who had immediately gone to confront the people coming from the hovercraft. Soon other hovercrafts were brought in, and we were all directed on to them. Obediently Ma and I herded the kids on board. Vick followed orders to a T, doing his best to set an example for Rory and Prim on the hovercraft. I don't think I've ever seen him sit still for so long without complaint. I'd let him help me when we were all in the woods, with snares and fishing. I'd always intended on him learning to hunt, and we needed all the help we could get with so many of us stranded in the woods.

The flight was disconcerting. If I hadn't walked aboard the hovercraft myself, I never would have believed we were flying. It's foreign to travel with such little indication; there was no sensation of movement at all, except a faint vertigo during take off and landing.

District 13 quickly organized our ragtag group of survivors. Medics were brought in to tend our injuries. My body has been bandaged, my arm put in a sling. We were fed and sent to our assigned housing units. I don't like this feeling of being underground, but I'm not about to complain. Anyway it's not as bad as the mines.

Posy was glued to Ma's side the entire time, eyes wide, taking in all the strange people and places. We were "processed" - people entered into the army or assigned jobs in 13. The kids were registered into district 13's schools. Like others my age, I was given the entry level admittance into the military and I have a new title, "Soldier Hawthorne." The district President even spoke to us, welcoming us to the district. She says they will train us to join the rebellion. My family will be safe here.

Immediately after I received my assignment, Haymitch Abernathy pulled me from the group and took me to a meeting with Plutarch Heavensbee.

Haymitch just stared at me, shaking his head, for a long few minutes. Before Katniss became a victor, I'd just thought of him as someone wasting away his life as a drunk. I didn't understand him, or even try to.

Now, his face is marred by long scratch marks, an eye patch covers one eye.

Haymitch explained to me about Katniss, about how she and the some of the other victors were broken out of the arena, the conspiracy with other districts. How they couldn't get to Peeta. That was when I learned that Haymitch has been involved in the rebellion all along.

We'd had no way to know what happened after the explosions began in the arena, after the broadcast cut out so abruptly. We knew it was big. Katniss may not have known about the rebel plans, but I'm sure she knew what she was doing when she shot that arrow into the force field. I could almost see her connecting the dots of what Beetee intended with his ingenious trap, in that final moment of the broadcast. Changing the rules on the Capitol yet again.

Haymitch explains that Katniss is in the hospital and is refusing to eat or drink. She didn't know about the rebels' plans. She still doesn't know about the bombings. And he wants me to try to talk to her.

I wasn't sure I would want to see her, not after watching her snuggling up to Peeta in the arena all over again. She was willing to give her life for him. But the instant I hear she is here, I know I will do anything for her. I can't give up on her now.

I still can't believe I'm going to see her. I don't think I'll believe it until she's really in front of me. It's not exactly how I imagined our reunion. Neither of us is in good shape right now. One side of my face is burned, my arm in a sling. I've been bandaged up, though I'm still in my miner's shirt.

When Haymitch takes me to her room in the hospital, she's asleep - drugged on painkillers, he told me to expect that. I can't believe she's really here in front of me, my Catnip, this beautiful brave woman. I stand at her bedside, gazing down at her weakened body, her sweet face. The wound on her arm is heavily bandaged. My fingers delicately trace the lines of her small, strong hand. I want to take her in my arms, to kiss away her pain. I know I can't, that she's not ready for that. But we're alive. Despite everything the Capitol has thrown at us, we're still here. I'm alive, in district 13. I have my Catnip, and we have a rebellion to win. Together. Right now that seems like more than I could have dreamed.

Then her eyes open and slowly focus on my face. And she whispers my name.


	16. A mother's worries (MJ)

**A/N: Another from Hazelle in District 13. Thanks for reading - and especially for reviews. :)**

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Posy is practicing her letters when Rory bursts through the door, dragging his bag of books behind him. Leevy pokes her head into the unit after him.

"Hi Mrs. Hawthorne," she says. Leevy is from the Seam like us, a neighbor of the Everdeens. I never knew her well, at least not until Gale was whipped for poaching in 12. But the girl had helped out and watched the kids that night.

She made it out on the night of the bombing, along with her dad and brother but her mom didn't make it. Her father Charles had worked in the mines. Now both he and Leevy are soldiers in district 13's army. Her brother is in the same grade as Rory, and the kids from 12 have been sticking together in their new school.

From my seat next to Posy, I answer, "Hi Leevy. Thanks for walking Rory home." Rory throws his schoolbag on the table. "I don't need a babysitter," he grumbles. "I know how to get home. Will's the one who gets lost all the time."

Leevy looks apologetic. "Dad wanted me to see him down. I'd better get home."

My mouth twitches disapprovingly. "Would you like to stay? I've just fixed some tea." The poor girl has lost her mother. It seems everyone here has lost someone, but I'm not sure Leevy has someone to talk to here.

"Maybe next time," Leevy answers. "I really should go. It's almost reflection time."

"Okay, honey. Maybe we'll see you at dinner," I tell her. Leevy gives a small nod before heading back out into the hall.

When the door shuts behind her, I turn my attention to my sour son. "Rory, how was school today?"

"Fine," he grouses.

I thought I'd have more to worry about with Vick, but Rory's been in a foul mood the last few days. I'd like Gale to talk to him, but he's been pretty wrapped up in his own problems.

"I thought you liked your classes here," I ask Rory.

"They're _fine_," he answers, aggrieved.

"Then what is the problem?" I demand.

He hems and haws a few minutes before breaking down, but he know I'm not letting him off the hook. Finally he tells me, "The classes are way better than back home. But Ma, there are like ten of us and about a hundred mole kids."

Mole kids? It's a different district, the children have had completely different cultures and experiences growing up. I'm sure it's hard for them like it is for us. But I don't care what other children are calling each other. I expect my children to behave better than that.

"What did you just say young man?"

"Nothing," he says, looking guilty. Then with a roll of his eyes, he answers, "mole kids. You know."

"Rorik Benjamin Hawthorne! How could you say such a thing."

"I don't say it to their face," he whines in disagreement.

I fix him with a stern look and say, "I don't care. How would you like it if they called you names?"

"They live underground, Ma. They've never been outside. It's weird."

I have to remind myself that there were bound to be problems merging our kids into their schools. "That's not their fault. They live where they have to to survive. And I shouldn't need to tell you that so do we. Where would we be without their help?"

"Whatever," he gripes.

"Rory." My voice carries a note of warning for my son. "I will not tolerate that kind of language. Is that clear?"

Rory sighs, "Yes Ma."

"Okay then. Will you tell Vick it's time for reflection?"

So now Rory and his friends are separating themselves from the district 13 kids and calling them names. I wonder if it would be appropriate to talk to one of his teachers about it. They probably already know what's going on, but I should find out how they're dealing with it in class. Of course Rory will be mortified if I walk with him to class or pick him up afterward. He doesn't want to be treated like a baby. Well maybe he shouldn't act like one then. Maybe I should talk to Charles Junper or Leevy as well, since Will's in Rory's group of friends here.

With the family settled in the main room for reflection time, I prod them each into talking about their day. Rory is still sullen. Thankfully, Vick cooperates and tells us about an experiment in his science class. Posy is more than happy to fill the time with her stories about the kids in her class.

Today, Gale shows up about halfway through reflection time, causing Posy to stop mid-sentence and launch herself across the room at him.

"Posy!" I caution her. Fortunately it catches her attention enough to keep her from jumping full-force onto him. His shoulder is still not fully recovered from the rescue mission. He looks tired, but smiles as his little sister runs into his side and throws her arms around him. Even Rory lights up a little bit as Gale asks them about school. They all look up to him so much.

I'm glad he's here tonight, showing them his love. Gale has thrown himself into his work in Special Defense, especially now with Katniss gone to district 2. I'm still trying to find a way to talk to him about her, but I am glad to see him more.

What will I do about Gale. He got us out of district 12; he saved so many lives. I'd never been prouder of him. But since we arrived in 13, I've felt him slipping away from us. Between Katniss and the war, he hardly seems to have time for his own family anymore. He's constantly been running off, to Coin or Beetee or Katniss. He's proud to be in the military here. He tries to pretend the communicuff isn't important, but I can tell it matters to him. And why  
shouldn't he be proud, of being valued and appreciated? I just hope it's for the right reasons, and that they're not expecting too much of him. Sometimes I wish I could just go to the adults in charge and remind them he is still just a teenager. But he's been shouldering responsibility beyond his years since his father died, and he's not a kid in school anymore. So I keep my feelings about it to myself. He's a grown man and I need to treat him as one, hard though that is.

I feel guilty, but I'm glad Katniss told him to stay here when she left. We've seen more of him in the last week than in the month before, I think. He still has a full schedule, but he's not running off each night after dinner.

I know whatever is going on with Katniss is complicated, especially with Peeta's condition, but I'm afraid Gale is just getting hurt more by sticking so close to her. I haven't seen Peeta, but from what I have heard, he's been completely brainwashed. Hijacked, that's the term they're using. Poor Gale is convinced that Katniss is the only girl in the world. I really try to remember how Katniss was before. She always cared for our family and I'm sure she cares for Gale in some way or another. But it's hard not to blame her for Gale's absences and his troubles. I know she was just a normal girl when his attitude toward her changed. But now that she's the symbol of the rebellion, I wish he had a nice normal girl in his life. Maybe someone like Leevy, she's a nice enough girl.


	17. When someone they love is in pain (CF)

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Again, part of this is straight from Canon, just a different viewpoint. The scene and a few lines are directly taken from Suzanne Collins' work.**

* * *

Auugghhh. My back feels like it's on fire. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are hovering over me to tend to me, removing the bandages from my torn skin. Each movement of the bandage against my skin feels like a knife dragging me from my stupor. I clench my teeth against the pain, pinching my eyes shut at each new shot of agony.

Katniss' tense voice reaches through my foggy mind. "Can't you give him another shot?"

Her mom answers, something about snow coat. Excruciating pain shoots through me as she lays a cloth across my back. The sweet smell of the medicine fills the air around me as it's scooped onto the cloth on my back. It's a strange feeling at first, almost pins and needles, but soon the cold is soothing my flayed nerves. I sigh with the relief of it, my body immediately relaxing, drifting back toward oblivion.

Katniss and her mother continue talking over me. Something about my treatment. Questions. An apology. It's her mom's words that plant themselves in my mind though. She says, "when someone they love is in pain." She's talking about me, and Katniss. Someone they love.

Katniss kissed me. Here, last night. After they gave me the medicine that saved me from that agonizing pain, numbing me. But I still felt her touch - her fingers as they traced across my face. The feathery lightness of them on my lips. She whispered something, and then she kissed me. I couldn't have missed that no matter what they'd given me. I had to see her. I forced myself through the drug-induced haze pulling at me to reach her. My Catnip. She'd said she was leaving, but here she was, at my side. Kissing me. I told her I thought she'd have been gone ... not that I had hoped she'd stay. But she said she was staying, right here. What did she say? That she would stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble. She sounded like my old Catnip then. Like it was just the two of us against the world.

I was already slipping away into this unfeeling haze, my pain fading into nothing. But now I carried her words with me, and the feeling of her lips on mine. There could be no better medicine, no better reason to fight.

Does Katniss love me? I hope so, but she's gone silent. Her mother's words linger in the air as her hands move methodically across my back, but I can scarcely feel it through the snow coat. When Katniss' next words ask about Peeta, my thoughts come crashing down around me. I mentally groan and glare, though I don't have the energy or ability to do either now. Usually I'd have some sarcastic comment ready but my brain doesn't seem to be working right now; in reality I'm barely aware of what's going on around me, other than the feel of my skin and their words that reach into my foggy mind. Instead I slip back into the fog. Nothing happens to pull me out again.

I remember our fight yesterday, and the emotional swings it caused. First thinking she wanted to run away with me, then learning her plan was about running away but not about me. The news about the uprising in district 8. The very idea of an uprising sparking my thoughts of action, wondering what I could do, forming plans, debating which miners I could trust.

I should have been more careful, but how could I have expected a new Head Peacekeeper? I was already thinking about rebellion. It's as if somehow the powers above sensed revolution at hand and sent my punishment. I remember the charge against me. What could I do but claim the damn turkey came into the district on its own? I was lucky I'd left the rabbits at home, so I could pull even that off. I remember the lash of the whip. How many times? I lost count before I blacked out from the pain. I'll have to find out - what happened.

The next time I surface, only Prim is in the room. She's sitting on a stool off to the side of the table I'm stretched across.

"Hey, Prim," I say. My head is clearer now that the medicine is truly wearing off, but the snow coat has cooled and numbed my back.

"How are you feeling?" she asks me from her seat, her little brow knitted in concern.

"Better. I can't really feel anything," I tell her.

She gives me a worried smile, and says, "That's good, the snow coat should numb everything."

"Thanks," I sigh. Prim nods solemnly. I feel like I've been to hell and back, but it's only strengthened my resolve. If there's a rebellion, we have to fight, don't we? When I look at Prim ... or think of Rory, or Vick, or Posy. I'd give anything to keep them safe. _Will Katniss fight then? For them?_

I can't help myself. "Where's Katniss?" I ask.

"Upstairs, I think. Mom's ordered her to rest."

My heart beat picks up immediately. "Is she hurt?"

Prim looks at me, confused. Then she answers quietly, "She'll be alright. She took a lash to her cheek. Trying to stop it. But mostly she's just worried about you."

She stepped in front of the whip for me? Oh, Hell. I know I'd have done it for her. But she shouldn't put herself in danger like that.

I try to bring my hands up to be able to shift my position on the table, but my arms are stiff and pain shoots from my shoulders at even the slight movement I manage.

"Stop!" Prim demands, rushing to the table as I groan in pain. "You don't want to make it worse. The wounds on your back are still too fresh."

With a sigh I let my arms fall back where they were, allowing the pain to recede again.

"What about my family?" I ask Prim.

"Your mom was here last night. She had to go home though. It's a good thing too, the storm's gotten a lot worse."

"Snowstorm? How bad is it?"

"It's really bad, looks like a blizzard out there," she tells me.

"Guess you're stuck with me then," I say.

"You're not going anywhere," Prim answers decisively. "Not for awhile. But you'll be alright, mom knows what she's doing. And Katniss sent some food home with your mom. They'll be okay."

"I hope so," I tell her. "I don't think I'll be hunting again any time soon."

"No," she says quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "I guess not."

I'm already feeling tired again, or maybe I never truly woke up. I let myself drift back into oblivion, trusting my body to the Everdeens. Maybe I can talk to Katniss later. I wonder if she'll really be willing to start a rebellion. Could we do it? Could it work? All I know is we have to try.


	18. In the bunker (MJ)

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Thanks to all who review, especially guest reviewers! Again I am borrowing some text directly from Suzanne Collins & claim no credit for her work.**

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When the alarms began sounding, I figured it was another drill. We've already been through a couple of drills since we arrived in district 13. This ear-splitting wail was different from the earlier drills, loud enough to drive anyone toward the emergency bunkers, but we had been told of the different levels of warning alarms and to expect random drills.

As we all tried our best to cover our ears and block out the piercing sirens, Posy ran to me crying. I lifted her up and tried to calm her while yelling for Vick and Rory, as if they could hear me over the sirens. Not a minute later we were headed out of the unit, hands linked together, Rory carrying a bag of whatever belongings he'd been able to grab before I pulled him out the door. We followed the evacuation route the boys had practiced when we first arrived.

We'd just reached the closest stairwell when Gale came running down the hall. He had been summoned on his communicuff shortly after dinner, and hadn't returned before the sirens began. A steady stream of people was already heading down into the earth. As I hustled the kids through the door, Posy perched on my hip, the boys leading the way with hands locked together, Gale's eyes skimmed over the four of us and he yelled, "I'll be right behind you" before veering off against the tide, up the stairs. It was already too late to try and stop him, so I hurried on, shooing Rory and Vick down the stairs. Down we went, further than I'd been before, until we were directed into to a huge cavern that serves as one of district 13's emergency bunkers. I couldn't help wonder just how far under the earth we were buried. The sound of the siren had faded immensely and blended into the noise of the people gathered in the bunker.

Now we wait. Gale still hasn't appeared and I can't help worry. More and more people flow into the cavern, but he isn't among them. The talk being spread as we made our way down is that no drill was planned, and that this is real. Where is Gale? We've already found our bunks, labeled for unit #47, and I'm trying to follow the "On Arrival" section of the Bunker Protocols that waited there. Except that the first item on the list is to make sure everyone is present and accounted for. We are still missing Gale, and there's nothing in the protocol telling me what to do about that, how to report that no, we do not have all members of our Compartment. So Rory is watching Posy, distracting her with a game of I Spy, while Vick and I wait in the line to collect our 5 survival packs from the Supply Station. The line is long, but I hardly notice it moving as I watch our area nervously, waiting for Gale to appear.

The longer we wait the more I worry about Gale. I can guess where he was going, anyway. As if he hasn't already done enough for the Everdeens. He can't accept that they might actually be fine on their own, that they could ever not need him. I have to trust he'll be down soon. While we are waiting in line, there's a commotion across the cavern as Katniss frantically fights her way to the door, yelling about Prim. Oh no. What happened? Where are they? I can't tell what's going on by the door, there are too many people in the way. I'm so distracted trying to tell what's happening that Vick has to pull on my sleeve to point out that we've reached the front of the line. We carry the packs back to our bunks, not very far, and I keep watch on the door, desperately wondering if they've made it down yet. Then the doors slam shut, and a panic hits me. Surely he made it. He couldn't still be up there. Could he? In a moment the crowds seem to disperse to their compartments and I catch sight of him. The tension in me snaps and I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding. I almost collapse in relief at the sight of Gale and Prim, together; they both made it down. Prim is already headed to their compartment, carrying their cat from the looks of it. Gale is handing off a large box to Katniss, as well as a bag she slings over her shoulder.

My relief at his appearance replaces the worry, temporarily outweighing my growing anger at his behavior. Gale has scarcely made his way to our space in the bunker, allowing me to pull him into a hug, when the faint sirens end altogether and President Coin's voice announces, "Attention, district 13. Thank you for your exemplary behavior in our evacuation." I give my weary son a stern look as the din of the cavern falls to silence. Our family sits silently on the lower bunks of our space to listen. Posy climbs into Gale's lap and I wrap an arm around Vick's shoulders.

Coin's voice continues, "This is not a drill. There is a credible chance of an attack from the Capitol government. I repeat, this is not a drill and there is a real possibility of attack on district 13. Moments ago, in a televised interview broadcast from the Capitol, District 12 Victor Peeta Mellark made reference to a possible lethal attack on district 13. Though we do not know the source of his information, we are treating this as a credible threat to our district and are taking every precaution. We have now sealed off all emergency bunkers from the upper levels. All citizens will remain in the bunkers until such time as the threat of attack has passed. I assure you that the bunkers will protect us from any threat. If an attack should come, we will be doing everything in our power to protect our home and our way of life. Thank you again for doing your part to ensure a speedy and smooth evacuation. Further announcements will keep you all informed of the situation."

The bunker had fallen into silence in order to better heard the announcement, but now a low hum of noise fills the cavern as everyone digests the news. Gale has turned his attention to his younger siblings, perhaps hoping to avoid the conversation with me over his disappearance earlier. I'm looking at my children when I feel the impact ripple through me. The whole cavern shudders and the lights flicker out, leaving us in complete darkness. Vick clings to me, and I hold him close. Posy, a short distance from me, whimpers and I can hear Gale whispering to her, trying to calm her. With my free hand I reach out and find Rory. He grabs my hand and we all sit, waiting fearfully for what will happen next. Then the generators turn on and a low light fills the cavern, almost like candlelight. I recall a faint memory from orientation, when they told us something about the different missiles that could be used in an attack.

Soon Coin's voice returns, grimly confirming, "Apparently, Peeta Mellark's information was sound and we owe him a great debt of gratitude. Sensors indicate the first missile was not nuclear, but very powerful. We expect more will follow. For the duration of the attack, citizens are to stay in their assigned areas unless otherwise notified."

Between the impact of bombs that regularly shake my trust in this supposedly secure facility, assigning the children their bunks and getting them ready for bed, I don't have an immediate opportunity to confront Gale. I've long since learned that sometimes I have to control my emotions and impulses and focus on the family's well-being. While I am relieved we are all as safe as we can be given the circumstances, I'm still angry that he would take that kind of risk. But for now, I need to make sure that we all get through this okay.

I doubt any of us will really sleep tonight, though I hope Posy does. Of course she's scared, but she doesn't really understand what's going on, so I stay with her after I've tucked her in, sitting on the edge on her bunk as I quietly sing her a lullaby. Quietly, but loud enough that the boys can hear it too. They'd never admit to it but I hope that it can help calm them too.

It's not until the next day that I can talk to Gale, and even then I'm all too aware of how closely packed we are with everyone else in the bunker. I want to give him a good dressing down. I want to yell at him for leaving his family and putting himself at risk. He's still young and he thinks he's invincible, especially here in 13, a soldier fighting for the rebellion. I can't tell him not to help the Everdeens, though I wish he didn't try to be a hero. But by the time I get a chance to talk to him, my anger has dissipated somewhat.

At least the bombs have lessened. The cavern still shudders from an impact once every hour or two, but we've almost gotten used to it. Vick is visiting his friend Will, a few compartments over in the bunker. Across the cavern at the Everdeen's section, a crowd has gathered to watch Katniss and Prim playing with Buttercup. Rory has taken Posy over to watch the cat's antics, leaving me with a brooding, sour-faced Gale. He made some excuse for not going with Posy, though now he's watching the gathering from our bunks.

Instead of railing in to him, I say, "Why don't you get some rest? You must be tired."

"I'm okay," he says halfheartedly, staring through the gloom of the cavern.

"You worried me half to death, you know. Cutting it so close," I tell him.

Gale knows better than to raise his voice but he glowers from his seat on the bunk. "I had to make sure they were out. And Prim was up there alone, trying to get that stupid cat of hers."

"And the box? What else did you rescue?" A sharp tone has edged into my voice despite my better intentions. Gale glares at me, snapping back, "It didn't slow me down, Ma. It's just some things from 12. What does it matter? We hardly have anything from home anymore - why not save what we can." He sounds almost defeated.

I wonder. They must have collected some things from 12 when they were there two days ago. Gale had been dead on his feet when he came home from that trip.

"Are you okay, Gale?" I ask him, "I still can't believe you agreed to go back there."

His lips twist into a half-smile, and he looks up at me. "I had to, Ma."

"I know," I answer quietly. I walk over to the bunk and rub my hand across his shoulder, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "I know. You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?"

"I know. I'm fine." he says in return. "Maybe I'll take that nap."

I let him alone, knowing I won't get anything out of him if he doesn't want to talk. He sleeps, or at least, pretends to sleep, so I wander over to where Vick is visiting his friend. I chat a little with Will's father, Charles, while the boys shoot imaginary weapons at invisible enemies.

Later, after we've participated in the scheduled exercises and had something to eat, everyone is instructed back to their compartments. Though we're still trapped in the bunker, everyone is in pretty good spirits now. If the Capitol's bombs haven't reached us yet, what are the chances they will now? Other than going stir-crazy, there's no immediate threat. Gale started the kids on a game of "I Spy..." but they've long since run out of things to spy here in the cavern, so now they've added to the challenge by including things from anywhere - from our old home in the Seam, from here in district 13, as long as it's somewhere everyone has visited.

The last round was "something black" which turned out to be our old coal stove back in district 12. Now it's Gale's turn. He gets a sneaky gleam in his eye as he starts, "I spy in my mind's eye ... something green."

Rory and Vick immediately vie to ask the first questions. Gale lets Vick ask first, and he blurts out, "Is it smaller than a washtub?" Yes, it is. Rory's turn. "Is it a living thing?" Yes again. Posy's turn, "Is it .. is it a piece of grass?" No, not grass. Back to Vick. "Is it outside?" No, it's not outside. I'm assuming something in the hydroponic farm here though - which we all toured soon after our arrival in 13. There are plenty of agricultural areas underground here, so I'm not surprised by Rory's question. "Is it a plant?" Not a plant. I raise my eyebrows to Gale, curious now of what trick he's playing. What green living things aren't plants?

Posy's turn. "Is it a bug?" I smile, that she'd think of the possibility of a bug, but that's wrong too. Rory and Vick sits quietly, faces twisted in thought. What could it be? Nobody can even think of a good question at this point.

I chime in, just to keep the game going. "Does it have fur?" Gale winks at me, answering, "Nope, No fur."

Vick's face brightens. "Does it have scales?" Gale laughs and shakes his head. No scales. Vick sighs with disappointment. Rory asks, "Does it have feathers?" Gale's teeth gleam in the low light as he grins and triumphantly answers, "YES! It has feathers." Posy's eyes get big as she asks wonderingly, "Is it a bird?" Yes, it's a bird.

"Cheating!" Vick declares. "No fair. We haven't seen green birds. We don't all go hunting in the woods, Gale."

Gale smirks and admits, "Okay, you got me. But you're too smart for me. I picked something you haven't even seen and you still figured it out!"

Posy asks him, "Are there really birds that are green?"

Gale crouches down next to Posy and tells them all quietly. "There sure are. You'd love them Posy, they're little just like you. And they can flap their wings so fast you can't even see them." Posy's face is full of wonder just at the thought. Vick and Rory don't look quite so please at Gale's trickery, though.

Rory gripes, "But you said they were inside, Gale."

Gale answers, "They are! There's a whole room of them in Special Defense. And you know what? As soon as we get out of here and I get the chance, I'm going to take you all on a special trip and show you them myself."

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**A/N: The green bird refers to hummingbirds that 13 has used to study aerodynamics. Katniss & Gale see them (& Gale and Beetee discuss snaring them) when they visit Beetee after Katniss agrees to be the Mockingjay.**


	19. District 12 Revisited (MJ)

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review. Another day with Gale.  
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Hells Teeth. I wish I could believe it was a coincidence I got the communicuff back at the same time I went along with hiding Peeta's interview from Katniss.

When they said she hadn't seen it, it seemed like it would be better for her not to know. What was the point in her knowing? We couldn't do anything about it. It would just hurt her. I felt bad for hiding it from her, but couldn't she understand why we did it? That we wanted to protect her?

She deserved to be angry at me, but it was as if my apology meant nothing to her. She just threw it back in my face. Fine - if she's still angry, well I don't need to talk to her either. At least not talking to each other I won't damage things with her any further.

I can't tell them that Katniss knows about the interview, or even that we're not on speaking terms, since that would raise more questions. So of course they decide we should film in district 12 today. As if I ever wanted to face those ashes and ruins again, to see my home burned to the ground. But Plutarch shows us the map of Panem, talking about how much a difference their propos have made, about how we've taken control in districts 11 and 3.

So I do it, for the rebellion. In district 12, I let them grill me about my past life, I even relive that night of the bombing, leading the film crew beyond the meadow and away from the remains of our district. It's almost the end of august, and I'm dripping in sweat before we've even reached the woods. Our woods. Katniss trails the film crew as I lead them to the lake. In my mind the lake still belongs to her, really. I had only ever been here once before the bombing. By the time we get there I'm drained of words to explain the devastation and terror we felt. How can anyone who wasn't there truly understand what it felt like, running for our lives in the midst of falling bombs, acrid smoke, and burning bodies. They've pulled it all out of me, there's nothing left.

While Katniss wanders off around the lake, I step into the little concrete house to escape the film crew. The walls and floor are cool to the touch, a welcome break from the relentless heat. This was where she told me about the rebellion, or uprisings anyway. Where I told her I love her. I kneel down to put my head in my hands, only to find I'm still holding the bent metal poker. It's about all that was left of my house in the Seam, the place I was raised. With a deep breath, I stand and prop the poker next to the hearth of this lost little house, absently fingering the handle. What would have happened, if I'd still agreed to run away with her? If I hadn't insisted on staying to help the rebellion. What a laugh that turned out to be. And yet here we are. I hear a familiar footstep in the doorway and turn, meeting her gaze. She doesn't say anything, so neither do I.

They've brought cheese sandwiches for lunch. Katniss is on the far side of the group, near Pollux.

As we eat, she starts singing to the Mockingjays, who fall silent and listen before repeating back the notes. As soon as it starts, Castor immediately starts recording. Katniss must not realize the cameras are rolling, though. She seems to be doing it for Pollux, the avox. Eventually Katniss gets up, wandering aimlessly away from us, singing that old song - the Hanging Tree. It's about a man, waiting for his lover. In a twisted way it reminds me of us. Only that guy's dead.

Plutarch thinks the whole thing is great. I know Katniss didn't mean for it to be filmed. I'm still a little shocked she didn't flip out when she realized it was being filmed. Just kept going.

Walking back toward the district, I can't help but feel uneasy with all the unnecessary noise the film crew makes. We're certainly in no danger, but it still feels wrong. When we reach the big mossy boulder, I unconsciously glance in the direction of our rock ledge, our old meeting spot. Katniss must have looked too, because Cressida asks what's there. She insists we show it to her, of course.

The blackberry bush is full of ripe berries, since no one has been here to pick it clean. It marks the place where we needed each other. But I'm not sure Katniss needs me anymore. Surreptitiously I watch her playing with a blackberry, rolling it between her fingers.

Katniss catches me off guard when she tosses a berry into the air, quoting Effie Trinket's old line from the reapings. A peace offering. She wants us to go back to the way things were, even if we can't erase everything that's happened. The way things were, when we were hunting partners. We were everything, and at the same time, nothing, to each other. I watch her as the berry arches high into the air, feeling the pain of losing her, knowing we can't go back. But I catch the berry, in my mouth, like I always have. We can't go back, but at least she's offered a truce. Maybe she realizes how hard today has been for me. After a pause, I finish the phrase, "... be ever in your favor" in that falsetto tone that I would always use to mock the Capitol's way of speaking. But the odds aren't in our favor, are they?

Cressida directs us to the rocks for an interview together. We talk about our past, our lives together before the games. Neither of us reveals any buried emotions. We speak almost robotically about those days, how we kept our families alive on the bounty of these woods. I ache for the ease we shared then. When Cressida asks about the bombing in 8, Katniss clams up. But Katniss wasn't here when those bombs went off. After that, I'd have done anything to get a shot to fight the Capitol. Facing those bombers ... well it was about time I was able to do something after they'd torn my life apart.

It's late afternoon by the time we're back in the village. Katniss has them film her at the bakery, or what's left of it. When Cressida asks if either of us have been tortured, I'm so tired of explaining everything that I don't even think about it. I just pull my shirt over my head to show them the scars on my back. Punished for keeping my family fed, and I probably would be dead if not for Katniss and Haymitch intervening. Katniss face goes green and she looks like she might throw up. Instead, she takes off toward the Victor's Village, the one thing left standing. I want to go after her but Cressida's not done with me. She asks me about the whipping, about the Peacekeepers' idea of justice here in 12. Finally she's finished with me. I volunteer to get Katniss and take off after her.

I find her sitting on the floor of her kitchen, filling a box with her mom's herbal remedies and other medical supplies. She doesn't see me at first, and I watch her, silently, as she empties out the last of the cabinets. Soundlessly I walk over to the table, the same table where they brought me after the whipping. Where Mrs. Everdeen packed my back with snow-coat and where my mother kept her silent vigil. I laid here in agony until the medicine took its effect and numbed my body. And I laid here while Katniss touched me, penetrating the haze of medicine. And I laid here, body torn to shreds, when she kissed me. My body has recovered, but the pain still haunts me.

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**A/N: Sorry it's another depressing Gale-Mockingjay scene. He had a very rough time in that book. ****I think he gets a bum rap sometimes.** I'm going to try to change things up, though there's still space in his Mjay story I want to cover. 


	20. The Hummingbird Room (MJ)

**A/N: Apologies but the updates will continue to be slow for awhile. Hope you enjoy this fun trip for the Hawthorne clan; it's entirely made up, but follows up on Gale's promise in the Bunker chapter.  
**

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Gale grinned as he led his family down the empty hallway toward Special Defense. It had been difficult to get visitor access for his family to come here, and he owed Beetee for agreeing, but he knew it would be worth it. The kids were even patient through the security checkpoint, where they met Beetee. One of the conditions of their visit was Beetee's supervision.

The whole family was sick of living underground, so this would be the perfect chance to at least feel like they were outside the claustrophobic underground district. Gale couldn't be sure when his family would get above ground again. He counted himself lucky to be a part of Katniss' team with its opportunities to get out of 13's monotonous hallways, whether for Mockingjay filming or when he and Katniss got to hunt. His friend Thom was in the military in 13, just like Gale, but had been stuck underground their whole time here until recently. The only times he could get above ground were when his squad went outside for conditioning exercises.

Gale had remembered the hummingbird room in Special Defense during a game of I Spy with his siblings, when they were stuck in that bunker while the Capitol had bombed District 13. Though his siblings had all forgotten about it, Gale hadn't. He had told them he would show them the little green birds hidden inside District 13, and he wanted to make good on the promise. He couldn't wait to see his family's faces when they saw the underground meadow.

Once inside Special Defense, it was hard to keep up with the excitement and questions launched at him from Rory and Vick. Hazelle was carrying Posy, so at least Gale didn't have to worry about her she running off and getting lost down here. The Special Defense offices were a labyrinth to themselves. Beetee had no trouble leading the Hawthornes to their destination, though his attempt at conversation with Hazelle was more than a little awkward and soon the adults had lapsed into silence, leaving the young boys to fill Gale's ears with questions about his work and the different areas of Defense passed along the way.

Finally they arrived at their destination. Before Gale allowed them into the observation room, he took Posy from his mother and made them all cover their eyes as he led them in, so that they stood looking out the window, which took up the entire wall of the room. Beetee just watched Gale and his family. If Gale had been paying attention, he might have noticed a wistful look on Beetee's face.

Instead, Gale's attention was fully on his siblings. "No Peeking!" Gale chided, poking Vick to emphasize the point. When everyone was in place, he told them to open their eyes. Suddenly they were all looking out into the paradox of an underground meadow, filled with real flowers and grass, and even some trees. Though he didn't get to visit it often, Gale loved this part of Special Defense. It was the closest to his familiar woods available in the underground city.

"Is it real?" Posy asked wide-eyed.

"All this underground..." Hazel marveled.

Vick demanded, "Can we go in?"

Gale laughed as Beetee opened the door for the family. "It's arranged for you to have up to an hour in the hummingbird room. Gale went over the rules with you right?" Beetee asked them. They nodded seriously; Gale had made his siblings repeat to him the rules about being careful and gentle with the plants. He'd also explained that the birds would probably keep their distance, since he hadn't been able to imagine any of his siblings sitting still enough for the speedy birds to investigate closely.

Inside the room, Posy wanted to touch - and take with her - everything in her reach. Gale had to stop her from tearing at the grass, picking flowers, and pulling at the tree bark as she tried to climb the nearest trunk. "Hey little squirrel," Gale said to her, "no climbing today." When Posy pouted, Gale convinced her a piggy back ride would be just as good, and pulled her up onto his back. As they walked through the hummingbird room, Gale pointed out the small green birds to Posy. She wanted them to come closer of course, but they stayed a safe distance from the strange invaders. From across the room, Gale noticed the hummingbirds getting pretty close to his mother, Hazelle. She had settled herself down in the grass on a blanket Gale had brought along for them, after her own explorations of the room. She sat near some bright red tube-like flowers which the hummingbirds always seemed to visit, and the little birds buzzed around her on their trips among the flowers.

Though they were well behaved at first, Vick and Rory soon started chasing each other through the trees, until Hazelle had to remind them not to rough house. "The grass is a lot less tough than at home," Gale explained to them. "if it gets torn up from us being here, it'll take a long time to repair naturally. They'd probably grow new grass especially to replace it, and if that happens we're definitely not going to be allowed in here again."

When Gale tired of carrying Posy, he returned to the blanket and Posy slid down from his back and went to Hazelle's lap, launching in to her own explanation of everything Gale had pointed out to her. Then Gale joined his brothers who were trying unsuccessfully to herd a group of hummingbirds around the room. He had to laugh as he watched them futilely chase the birds, trying to mind the rules but caught up in their game. By now they were laughing themselves, spontaneously responding to the birds' movements. Glancing back, he saw Posy watching the birds with fascination as Hazelle braided her hair, one of her many tricks to keep the young girl distracted and calm. As he turned back to his brothers, Gale caught sight of Beetee standing in the observation room watching them. Pausing briefly, he smiled his thanks to his new mentor, grateful for this chance to let his family escape district 13 life, if only briefly.


	21. Commiseration (MJ)

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review! Apologies but I won't have much time to add to this in the next month or so. Will try to get something new posted when I can.  
**

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We say goodbye in one of the hangars, along with all the other families. Not knowing many of the district 13 people, I stay near the Everdeens while Katniss and Gale say those goodbyes. Though we sometimes sit with them at meals, Prim seems to have matured without my noticing. It doesn't take long to see that Rory has not been so oblivious.

It's hard to believe that a year ago I still thought of Katniss as a young girl. I had already started accepting that Gale really was all grown up. After all he was almost more father than brother to Vick and Posy. Still, seeing them in their soldierly uniforms, stoically waiting to head into battle, seems totally wrong. I want to drag them both out of here and protect them from whatever might face them in the Capitol.

Katniss gives me a hug. It's not often I feel compelled to advise the girl but now the words just slip out. "Take care of yourself," I tell her. She steps back, looking me in the eye and nodding seriously. She says goodbye to the kids, ruffling Vick's hair, kissing Posy's cheek.

Gale is saying something to Carolyn Everdeen. As I watch he turns to our family. His eyes meet mine for just a moment before going to Rory. I hear him say, "You're the man of the house now, Rory. You have to be brave for me and help Ma. ..." I choke up thinking about what he's done for his brothers and sister, everything he's given up and risked for them. After Rory is Vick, who is already crying. Gale just hugs him, wordlessly at first, then murmuring, "it's alright, Vick. We're gonna win this war and I'll be back before you know it." I can feel the tears threatening before he even turns to face me.

I tell him, "I love you Gale. I'm so proud of you. And I know ... your father would be too." Then my voice wavers and I cut myself off before I break down.

He hugs me and answers, "I love you too, Ma." He doesn't say anything else, but I think of all our conversations about the war. I know he considers this the ultimate step to protecting his siblings._ No more reapings_, that's what it comes down to for him. I know he'd do anything to keep them safe. I just hope this doesn't become his last gift to them.

"Just come home safe," I whisper. We both have wet eyes when Posy breaks apart our hug, clamoring for attention and forcing smiles on our faces. _He'll come home_, I tell myself. _ He's a survivor._

By the time Gale and Katniss board their hovercraft, Rory is trying to comfort Prim and Carolyn is withdrawn into herself. Carolyn and I aren't close, but we have come to know each other through our children's friendship, and after all we are both going through the same thing right now. "Why don't you come to our place for a cup of tea?" I offer. She gives me a half smile and nods in agreement.

Back in our unit the kids all head to the main room unbidden, the homiest spot available for them to commiserate. I put the kettle on and Carolyn perches uneasily in a chair at the table, a simple utilitarian thing.

Though we weren't close, I had spent a few nights with her and Prim during the games. While I had been feeling helpless watching Gale in district 12, she had truly been helpless as Katniss faced the arena twice. Now we were both helpless to what would happen to our children in the war against the Capitol.

I am not ready to console and commiserate, with our children so freshly departed for war, so instead I ask how she's been liking the medical center here. She says it's been good, to be in a community of people instead of working on her own with just Prim. She starts to tell me about Prim being trained in medicine, but emotion takes over and she breaks off.

"They'll look after each other. They have for years," I say.

She nods, tears in her eyes. "We were finally feeling like a family again," she answers with a sigh.

Most of what I know about Carolyn has come through our children, but in this moment sitting with another anxious mother, I see her perspective better. Katniss and Gale were raised in the Seam, they'd known nothing else. In their adolescent certainty it's no wonder they've judged her so harshly. But as I look across at Carolyn, I see the woman from town, who fell in love so many years ago and gave up her comfortably life to move to the Seam. Their families hadn't approved of the marriage. She had to find her own way through the hardships. And maybe when our husbands were killed in the mines, it was too much for her. But she had no one. And she's still here fighting. In a rush of empathy and shared feeling, I tell her, "We'll get through this together."


	22. Peeta's rescue (MJ)

**A/N: Updates will continue to be slow for a little while, so I hope you are patient. Here's a take on Gale's involvement in Peeta's rescue. Hope you enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think!**

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After Katniss broke down trying to film, it didn't take long for me to get to her. It's one of the reasons I've stuck so close. And I still screwed up, not telling her about that interview. It's hard to watch her so torn up over the baker boy, but when I tried to imagine how I'd react if it were her in Snow's grip ... just the thought destroyed me. I don't like to think she could feel that way about him, but those kisses in the Quarter Quell didn't leave much question. Besides, when she did kiss me, but it never felt like it should, like in my head. That doesn't change how I feel, though. I can't picture myself with anyone else. I don't want to.

None of that mattered when she collapsed, when Finnick filled everyone in on what I could hardly admit to myself - and Finnick explaining it didn't help any. I was beside her in two seconds. I tried to hold her up as she fell apart, but she pushed me away. I couldn't even be her rock, her support. In the end it was Haymitch that was able to comfort her and contain her until they shot that needle in her arm, taking her away from the pain. Then Finnick falls apart too. I figured I'd help get them down to Medical, but before we left Plutarch had already declared that the rebel promos were too necessary to the war effort to have our victors unable to film, and that it was time for a rescue mission. He told Boggs to get started with plans, and I had to jump in the conversation. I told them I wanted to go. Boggs gave me a nod and said to meet him in command. So once Haymitch and I got Katniss and Finnick down to medical, we went straight there.

In command, there was a small crowd gathered. Boggs explained the basics of the mission, the risks involved, and announced that they needed seven people for the mission, that no one would be assigned to the mission, and that it was volunteer only. They asked for volunteers to raise their hands and insistently I threw mine in the air. Haymitch did too, but Boggs ignored him. Thankfully, he didn't ignore me. I was number three or four called up to join the team.

I seethed when Plutarch discussed Katniss' breakdown as merely a setback to the promo plans. Moments like that remind me that he was a gamemaker, arranging 'entertaining' deaths for Capitol entertainment. I wanted to take a swing at him so bad - but I couldn't, of couse. Luckily Beetee appeared and the conversation detailing the rescue plans began. It was clear they had developed a lot of scenarios for rescues before, which came as a surprise. I had no idea we'd be moving so quickly once the decision was made. They went through the plan, but Boggs and Beetee were making small changes as they went, discussing details that I couldn't follow. I did learn that there were rebel insiders in the Capitol who would be called on to help, and the rescue was for more than just Peeta. They planned to rescue others as well. The intelligence suggested other victors were being held in the same underground prison as Peeta, and the plan was to rescue all of them.

One of the Capitol rebels was going to plant bombs in a facility miles away from the prison to serve as a distraction. The bombs were a version I'd seen working with Beetee; I knew they'd attract a lot of attention if they worked as designed, to cause very localized damage while sending a sort of shock wave out beyond the blast radius. There was a good deal of debate about additional diversions. Someone I didn't know asked, "Should Ms. Everdeen be sent to another district? We could use her as another diversion."

I couldn't hold my tongue. "No! She can't handle it now," I exploded in anger. In truth, I didn't think I could handle worrying about her safety during this mission. I didn't want her leaving the district unless I was there to keep her safe. Boggs gave me a warning look, but thankfully concurred that Katniss was too fragile to be sent anywhere right now.

After the briefing in command, Boggs led us with Beetee down to Special Defense to be outfitted. The rescue plan involved knockout gas and a power failure, which meant we would be wearing masks that filtered the air we would breathe, and also night-vision glasses, for the duration of the mission. Of course, we were also outfitted with guns and uniforms specific to the mission. Before I knew it we were headed to the hovercraft. Once we lifted out of the bunker, we were completely cut off from communication with district 13.

I still didn't enjoy these hovercraft trips. It felt too unnatural, and I didn't trust the flight technology. Birds were meant to fly, not people. Boggs fortunately provided a distraction, reviewing everyone's roles as we traversed the open countryside between district 13 and the Capitol. I focused on the plan, piecing together the components of the rescue in my head. I asked Boggs about the details, contingencies, anything I could think of. It felt like forever, buckled in to the uncomfortable seats on the hovercraft.

I was partnered with a tall muscular woman from district 13, Syla. Boggs and his partner Blackol would be in front, and we would follow them into the prison. Once inside, the group would split up to rescue as many prisoners as possible, in as short a time as possible.

The hovercraft landed on the roof of a building whose basement was somehow connected to the prison. One of the rebel insiders was waiting at a door on the roof to let us into the building undetected. However, we could only get so far before encountering Peacekeepers. We would have to make our way to the basement, through maintenance tunnels to reach the prison, which would be heavily guarded. The knockout gas was supposed to take care of the Peacekeepers in the prison itself, but first we'd have to make it through the first building.

We had the element of surprise on our side, at least, that was the idea. Syla and I provided cover as Boggs and Blackol took the lead working our way down through the building to the basement tunnels. Somehow we got through without setting off any alarms or otherwise attracting undue attention. We reached the tunnels faster than expected and had to wait it out until the time the insider rebels were supposed to have set off the knockout gas cartridges in the ventilation system of the prison. We waited anxiously in a tunnel not far from the prison, minutes ticking by far too slowly. My heart was pounding in my chest and though Syla was perfectly still as we waited, a wild look in her eye told me she was as amped about this as I was.

Finally the tunnel flickered into darkness. We pulled down the night vision glasses and gas masks, Boggs gave the signal and we moved out. Working our way as quickly as possible through the tunnels, dispatching any workers who stray across our path, Boggs led us onward. We passed through several rooms of silent machinery, but I didn't even know when we entered the prison, until we found guards lying prone across the floor. Soon the group split up, Syla leading me down the narrow hallway. The stale plastic smell of the gas mask filled my lungs.

With the power out, the cell doors were easily unlocked from the outside. Syla was already at one of the doors, pulling it open. Though the knockout gas should have taken care of any inhabitants, I entered the cell on full alert. All I found was a crumpled body so battered and bruised that it looked more like a corpse than a Victor. I pulled the too-light body up over my shoulder, quickly surveying the room again before returning to the hall. There was confusion as we rejoined the group, as I frantically tried to identify the other unconscious bodies in tow. I knew whoever I had, it wasn't Peeta; the legs swinging limply off my shoulder were clearly a woman's, though little about the crumpled form had registered as feminine. Another soldier carried a second limp form, also obviously not Peeta. I was panicked that we hadn't found him, that he wasn't there after all, until Blackol turned up, hauling a larger body across his shoulders. "Is it him?" I asked in a whispered voice. In the unfamiliar images of the night-vision glasses, I peered into the face crushed against Blackol's shoulder. I needed us to save Peeta. I needed to know we had him.

Just as it registered that the body was definitely Peeta, Syla gave me a shove. She and Boggs were back from a final check and Boggs was waving everyone back towards the tunnels. As we hurried out of the poisoned hallways of the prison, I could scarcely believe what was happening. Could it really have been so easy? Blindly I followed the soldier in front of me, all my senses heightened by the danger I felt around us. We were barreling our way through a room of heavy equipment, still silent, when Boggs called out to take cover. I jerked myself behind the closest machinery, protecting the body I carried, and saw Syla crouched across from me. Shots ring out and in a flash she was gone, rushing forward out of sight to help Boggs. In a moment the guns had gone silent and we were on the move again. The tunnels were lit only by dim flashing bulbs, which must have been on some back-up system or generator. I was just coming around a corner of intersecting tunnels beyond the bounds of the prison when I heard the clicks and an explosion to my left. Instinctively I turned away, crouching down and looking for some kind of cover. The body I'd been carrying slumped off my shoulders in front of me. The stabbing pain hit me just after the metallic whirring that followed the explosion. The image of our own bombs, set as a distraction, pulsed through my mind with the pain. My back and shoulder felt torn to shreds, reminding me of the whipping back in 12. My ears were ringing and I realized I still hadn't moved. Then someone was pulling me up, hoisting the body onto their shoulders, pulling the gun in my hand back up into position. Turning my head, I saw Syla's intense gaze. I knew we had to keep moving. With a grunt, I nodded to her and we pushed forward through the tunnel. The pain wasn't so bad, or maybe the adrenaline and shock were blocking the worst of it, but we kept moving. I couldn't waste time or energy worrying about the state of the rescue squad; instead I focused everything I had on moving forward and keeping my weapon at the ready. Ahead, more gunfire. At the sight of peacekeeper uniforms, I was shooting. Ahead I saw Boggs. I followed his lead, working with him to cover our path out as the others hauled the prisoners past. We tracked after our group through another series of tunnels, up through the first building, back out onto the roof. As often as possible I scanned to check for Blackol and the body of Peeta Mellark. We'd scarcely hauled the bodies on board before we were in the air. I stood, gripping the edge of a seat tightly as I focused on the slumped form of the baker boy. We had him.

A medic checked over the prisoners, who despite all appearances were alive and presumably in better shape that their appearance suggested, before turning to the soldiers. When he got to me, I gestured to my back and arm, which stung hotly. He looked me over, then sent me to the empty seat I'd been standing over. Without any explanations, he pulled a needle from his kit and injected something into me, which soon dulled the throbbing in my arm and back, though heat still seemed to pour from the wounds into my body.

Even now, anxiously staring across the interior of the transport, I wonder what is still in store for us. Has the Capitol seen our hovercraft? Have they sent anything after us? I wait for some new attack, but nothing comes our way.

The hovercraft jerks to a stop in the familiar hangar of District 13 and the tension over a possible attack disperses. I practically collapse in my seat, a combination of exhaustion, pain and relief. Medical teams await us, we're quickly pulled off the hovercraft. The prisoners are still under the control of knockout gas, or maybe additional drugs given by the medic, I can't be sure. Despite my protests, I'm forced into a wheelchair and am wheeled down to medical by one of the medics. I'm hardly aware of my surroundings, but soon a doctor is looking me over. Apparently whatever is buried in my back and arm has blistered the tissue around the wounds. A part of me longs for the care of Mrs. Everdeen and the snowcoat, though surely the medical center here has better treatments. Whenever the doctor or another medic touches the metal implanted into me or the wounded skin around it, I moan in pain. The doctor works to remove the metal projectiles from my body. I clench my jaw, sweat dripping off me in a cold sweat.


	23. Feeding the Hawthornes (CF)

**A/N: One of Katniss and Hazelle's few scenes in Canon. Quoting Suzanne Collins directly in their dialogue. Hope you enjoy.**

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The cold water in the sink has leached all the warmth from my fingers when I spot Katniss out the window. Her game bag is slung over her shoulder. I welcome the opportunity for a break, even this early in the day, and maybe a hot mug of tea. With a nod of welcome, I wipe my hands on my apron and head to the door to meet her.

It was only weeks ago that Gale was taking game to the Everdeens while Katniss fought for her life. Now that Katniss is home and Gale is working in the mines, she's bringing game to us. He resents Katniss' hunting for us. Really, he resents Katniss being taken away from him. So much is changing for both of them- so much that Gale even sees her hunting as charity, given her new found status. Of course it's really the whole situation with Peeta that he's reacting to, but he's not making things any easier on the girl. Unfortunately he doesn't see he's only pushing her further away. And he's too pig headed to hear anything I say about it. Just like his father. And given everything she's been through - this is the first time in twenty-four years that a district 12 tribute has won the games - and the first time two tributes have ever been allowed to survive.

She's hard to read though; I don't know what her feelings are toward either boy. If anything, she seems confused. I'm not sure she has anyone to help her figure it out, either. Gale's her best friend, but she couldn't talk to him about this. And it's not my place to mother Katniss - I have enough to deal with as it is, and Gale would think I was interfering. So I won't butt in. What Katniss needs from me, the one thing I can give her, is to treat her as I always have, and let her feel normal again if only for a moment.

When I meet her at the door, Katniss looks slightly uncomfortable, though I'm not sure whether it's because of Gale's new hostility or those fancy new shoes. I accept the beaver carcass from her, instinctively assessing its weight and condition as I hold it by the tail, planning how to use it best. "He's going to make a nice stew," I say appreciatively.

I'd never have thanked her outright before, so I don't now. I know it's not appropriate anyway. We may need the food far more than she, but she needs this too, in a different way. She's clinging to this connection to us and to her old life. I worry to think how long it can last, now that she's so famous. Katniss is strong though. She'll find a way to survive.

"Good pelt, too." she says. Treated right, the Beaver pelt will be warm, supple, and resilient. We could use it, perhaps to make mittens for the boys, but we'll probably be better off if Gale can get a good price for it in the Hob. If this cold weather keeps up, it'll be all the more valuable, to the right buyer.

I gesture for Katniss to come in as I carry the beaver into the kitchen. The pot of herb tea is still keeping hot on the stove, so I pour us each a mug. Katniss isn't the talkative type, so I'm a little surprised when she says, "You know, when I get back from the tour, I was thinking I might take Rory out with me sometimes. After school. Teach him to shoot."

I nod, agreeing it would be a good idea. Gale had hoped to do it himself, before he started in the mines, but with Katniss going into the games, that plan had been derailed. Now he has such little time. Sundays are his only chance to get out into the woods. It's the only time he gets for himself, and his only time with Katniss. Also, I know it's not what she means, but with Gale in the mines, we can't be reliant on Katniss forever. "That'd be good," I tell her. "Gale means to, but he's only got his Sundays, and I think he likes saving those for you."

Katniss blushes, and her brow furrows. I meant it as reassurance, but I've inadvertently brought up whatever conflicts she is facing with Gale. She knows how hurt he was watching her games. Maybe she's thinking about him watching the Victory Tour. From what I've heard she hasn't been spending much time with Peeta, but I suppose the Tour changes that again.

Katniss gulps down the last of her tea, probably scalding her tongue, and pushes her chair back, saying, "I better get going. Make myself presentable for the cameras."

I accept her excuse to avoid talking about my son. I sigh, again wishing that Katniss had the freedom of a regular teenager to sort out feelings and relationships in the usual way. With both Gale and now Peeta, Katniss has been thrust into relationships for the sake of survival. At least with Gale they both had some choice in the matter, and plenty of time to sort things out with each other and develop the friendship that has kept both our families fed. Now, it seems she's had no choice and no time, and instead of working things out on her own time, she will have the entire country watching.

"Enjoy the food," I say, hugging her goodbye. It's safe to say that; it seems to me that the food will be about the only pleasant thing on the Victory Tour.

"Absolutely," she answers, before turning to leave.

After all, from our perspective, any filled table is a blessing.

* * *

**Random A/N: A guest review asked what AU stands for. I don't think I use AU at all in this series? Typically it stands for Alternative Universe so something about the set-up or setting for the story is deliberately different from the original. Here I try to stick to the original as much as possible. ( I do use "A/N" a lot, which stands for "Author's Note")**


	24. Announcement of the Quell, part 1 (CF)

**A/N (Authors Note): Thanks to everyone for reading (and reviewing)! Thanks to Belle453 for the Beta and to anwesha. guha. 50 for the initial idea.**

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The boys bring the news of the viewing home from school today. Preparing dinner, Hazelle worries over their meager supplies, which seem to be dwindling far too quickly now that the woods are truly off-limits. They wait until Gale is home to start in on the stew and the bread made from Rory's tesserae, so Hazelle and Vick have barely cleared the dishes when the broadcast begins.

Caeser Flickerman opens the broadcast. The Hawthornes are taken aback to find it's all about the district 12 victors' upcoming wedding, which is apparently as popular as ever in the Capitol. Despite Katniss' insistence that the engagement is an act, President Snow has other plans. The broadcast turns out to be part of some sort of competition for what dress Katniss Everdeen will wear to her wedding.

Hazelle keeps one eye on the broadcast and one on her children. Posy doesn't understand the significance of Katniss' pretty dresses, and neither Hazelle nor Gale is going to spell it out for her right now. The young girl watches pieces of the broadcast, but gets bored with the commentary and climbs from Gale to Hazelle in search of attention. Hazelle does her best to keep Posy entertained and distracted. Vick is already grumbling about the broadcast.

Hazelle watches Gale wearily, waiting for an outburst, as Katniss' stylist Cinna and the flamboyant host review a myriad of dress designs and accessories, talking in detail about each dress and the Capitol audience's votes. No outburst comes. At first, Gale tries to join in as Rory cracks jokes about the Capitol audience, but it's halfhearted at best. He becomes more lost in silent thoughts as the broadcast airs. Eventually Katniss is shown wearing each of the six "finalist" dresses before the Capitol audience gets their final vote. As she models them for the audience, twirling stiffly in the elaborate gowns, tears well in Gale's eyes and slip down his face. Even if the dresses are far too elaborate and fancy, the image of Katniss in a wedding dress at all stabs Gale in the heart.

As the broadcast ends, Hazelle lets Posy down off her lap to dance around the room, chattering aimlessly about what her wedding dress will look like. Gale is rubbing his sleeve across his face, trying to regain some composure in front of his little brothers. Instead of the signal cutting out, Ceasar Flickerman is instructing everyone to stay tuned, reminding the audience cheerily, "it's time for our third Quarter Quell!"

"Oh," Hazelle exclaims, her face turning pale as her children look toward her.

Reluctantly she explains, "They're going to announce the .. ehm, theme. It's different for every quell."

"What kind of theme?" asks Rory. All the children's attention is turned to their mother. Posy has stopped spinning, and even Gale watches her darkly from the table.

"I don't know, sweetheart," Hazelle answers. "There's always something different, with the tributes. But I guess we're going to find out. This must be the announcement." Seeing the attentive eyes of her boys on her, she continues somberly, "I remember the last time, it was that there would be four tributes from each district." She stops short there, looking at her son who will be in the Quell's reaping. She can't say it in front of him, how everyone had been scared to death that spring, knowing they had twice the chance of being reaped.

On screen, President Snow and a young boy walk out onto a broad, empty stage as the Panem national anthem plays in the background. Soon the President is pompously reciting the history of the Dark Days and the Hunger Games, laying out how the games are the righteous response to the districts' rebellion and how every twenty five years there will be a Quarter Quell to remind the districts of their treasonous past.

The boys' attention is fully on the screen now. Hazelle pulls Posy back onto her lap, to distract the young girl from whatever is coming. Posy might not follow it anyway, but with the boys so clearly interested, Hazelle doesn't want to take the chance.

Keeping her attention on Posy, Hazelle still hears every word of President Snow's speech. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it. On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

Hazelle remembers that reaping like it was her own. It was her second year in the reapings, but she had taken out tesserae and the possibility of being reaped, of certain death, terrified her. It was the year Haymitch won. Nobody expected a tribute from district 12 to win the games, yet two had made it to the final five. Out of the unending litany of games and tribute deaths she's seen, she will always remember that final scene, of how that axe came flying back out of the chasm and into Haymitchs' final enemy. She shudders at the image while President Snow's voice drones on.

The carved wooden box is open, the same unending line of envelopes that must have been in the broadcast twenty five years ago on display. There are enough envelopes lined up in the box to last a thousand years and then some.

It's Vick who puts voice to what they must all be thinking. "How many are there?" he asks with a strangled voice.

The envelope drawn from the box is marked only with a large, plainly written "75." President Snow reads from a small slip of paper, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

For the briefest of moments, nothing happens. Nobody moves, nobody makes a sound.

Gale is the first to react, anger spewing forth from him as he screams, "WHAT?"

The other boys look in confusion between Gale and the broadcast. Then before Hazelle can even say his name, the door bangs shut in Gale's wake as he storms out the door.

Posy startles at the sound and Hazelle instantly moves to soothe her. Vick is staring at the door in consternation. He asks plaintively, "What? Existing victors? What's that mean?"

Rory looks wide-eyed to Hazelle, asking frantically, "It's Katniss isn't it? That's what it means, right Ma? Katniss and ... and Peeta? or Haymitch? They're going back? They have to go back?"

For a moment Hazelle sits, silent and still, registering everything that's just happened. She's dreaded something like this. Will this be what sends Gale over the edge? After everything else, losing Katniss yet again?

"Mama, what's wrong?" Posy asks.

Her voice shakes as she answers her son, while soothing Posy. "Yes. Yes, Sweetheart. I'm afraid that's what it means."

It's impossible, absolutely impossible that the Quell theme just happens to guarantee that Katniss, the new victor who has shown such a rebellious nature, will be back in the arena, this time facing experienced killers, many of whom have been studying the games and training tributes for years.

Hazelle knows this is what Gale is thinking, and she knows he is right. She says a silent prayer for his safety tonight. When the children are in bed, she pours a mug of tea and begins her silent vigil, waiting for his return.


	25. Announcement of the Quell, part 2 (CF)

**A/N: Thanks for reading and to everyone who's left a review. :) Special thanks to anwesha. guha. 50 for the initial idea and to Belle453 for the beta and suggestions! **

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Gale hasn't made it halfway through the Seam when he realizes he can't go to the woods, not anymore. He still can't believe his ears. He doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, at President Snow's obvious manipulations. He's too distraught by the idea of Katniss going back in the arena to even notice her tracks as he approaches her house in the Victors' Village. At the front stoop, he pounds on the door. "Katniss," he yells. "Let me in!"

After a moment, it's Prim who opens the door, her face streaked with tears. "She's not here, Gale," Prim says quietly.

"Where is she?" he demands, stomping into the house.

"I don't know, she ran out," Prim explains. He stops in his tracks and is about to go after her when Prim asks, "Can they really do that Gale? Make her go back?"

Gale feels defeated. A few short months ago he believed in the rebellion, thought he and Katniss could fight the Capitol. But in that time he has faced Thread and watched as the woods were closed off from him and the new security procedures destroyed what little comforts district 12 had ever offered. Having Katniss taken away from him, again, Gale no longer sees a way to fight.

"I dunno," he tells her. "I guess they can. Who's going to stop them?" He left his house unwilling to accept it.

"How can they do this? They won the games. They're supposed to be the Mentors now. She's supposed to be safe."

"I know, Prim. We'll figure this out. I don't know how, but if there's a way, we're gonna find it."

There's no sense chasing after Katniss. If she's run away from Prim, Gale knows she's not going to want to talk to him either. Resigned to wait, he follows Prim into the house to where she and her mother have been sitting. He pointedly ignores the plate of cookies on the table, refusing to acknowledge Peeta's closeness to the Everdeens. Prim is pouring him a mug of tea when there's a knock at the door.

Gale practically leaps out of the chair. With Prim on his heels, he hurries to the door and swings it open wide, thinking only of Katniss.

"Hi ... - Oh!" the petite blonde on the doorstep jerks back in surprise. Her slim coat, though worn, is well made and must be warm to protect her from the night's bitter winds.

Equally caught off guard, Gale mutters accusingly, "Undersee? What're you doing here?"

"I ... I came to see Katniss," Madge stutters, her tear-stained eyes flashing defiantly at Gale before settling on Prim.

Ignoring Gale's glare, Prim speaks up. "Hi Madge. Katniss ... uhh, she's not here?"

"I'm sorry Prim. I can't believe this. Are you okay?" Madge asks.

Embracing Madge, Prim answers, "I don't know, it's hard to believe it's real. Thanks for coming Madge." Gale shifts uncomfortably as the girls hug in the doorway. When they part, Prim asks, "Do you want to come in? Peeta brought some of his lemon cookies over earlier ..."

Gale grits his teeth at both the reference to Katniss' fiancé and the obvious friendship between the blondes.

"Um, no thanks, Prim," Madge says, glancing briefly toward Gale. "I didn't mean to ... Well, don't worry. I don't think the Capitol knows what they're starting. Anyway ... I know you'll take care of her. I'll come by tomorrow. Goodnight Prim."

She turns to go, walking back into the dark night without a hint of hesitation until Prim calls, "Wait! We can't let you walk back on your own." Prim looks meaningfully at Gale who stares back at her in refusal. With a huff, Prim pulls her coat off a rack by the door and walks past Gale to catch up to Madge. Groaning, Gale follows.

Gale can't believe he's letting them drag him away from the house in the Victors' Village. What if Katniss comes back? Still, he couldn't let Prim go alone. Reluctantly he stalks silently behind the pair of blondes, worrying about Katniss while the girls talk quietly. He catches an unfamiliar name and assumes they're talking about school. Mostly he ignores them and pays attention to distant sounds and the shadows around them. He's more than a little worried what someone will think if they're seen. Gale doesn't need any more trouble right now. But the walk to the Mayor's house is quick and quiet. Madge leads them around to the back of the house.

Turning to them at the door, Madge says, "Thanks, Prim. I'll come by sometime tomorrow. Uh, thank you, Gale. Goodnight." Prim says goodnight and grudgingly Gale nods his head in acknowledgement as Madge's eyes meet his.

As they hurry back to the Victors' Village, Prim seems lost in thought. She chides Gale, "what do you have against Madge?"

He answers defensively, "she had no problem walking over on her own. I don't see why walking back is any different. As if anyone would touch _her_."

Prim says, "You'd never have let me leave on my own." With a frustrated sigh, she adds, "She's Katniss' friend Gale. She's on our side. You could at least be nice."

Gale retorts, "I'm sorry, I guess I'm a little too busy trying to feed my family and help Katniss to worry about the district princess finding her way home at night."

After a moment of silence, he sighs. "I'm sorry Prim. I'm just worried about Katniss."

Prim takes Gale's hand, answering, "I'm scared too." They walk the rest of the way without talking.

When they return to find Katniss still absent, Gale's anger at the townies who have laid claim to her since she became a victor is again tempered by the idea that he alone will be the one here with the Everdeens when she returns. Even if he has to stay here all night, Gale is going to be here.

Despite himself Gale wonders, briefly, what Madge meant when she talked about the Capitol. As he and Prim return to Mrs. Everdeen, Gale tries to convince himself that she can win again. Sitting with them at the table, he tells her family she will. But he's scared that she'll be targeted. He can't help worry that her fate is already written and this is simply President Snow's plan to appear innocent of her murder. In the arena, the Gamemakers control everything.

But if that's the case, what do they have to lose? Why not escape now?

Gale wishes more than anything that he'd swallowed his pride and run away with her when she first suggested it, no matter who she was bringing along, or what was happening in the districts. His family would have come. Prim and Mrs. Everdeen would have come. They could have escaped before Katniss was marked for the arena again. The security given to regular tributes, once selected, is bad enough, and he knows it'll be far worse for Katniss. Maybe they can still slip out though. They have to. They can survive out in the woods, if they can just get away. He wishes he'd never been so arrogant as to think they could start a rebellion here.

* * *

It's been hours. Gale stands at the window, staring out into the night. Prim and Mrs. Everdeen sit across the room, but they've run out of hollow words of comfort. He can't leave. He stares out into the night, willing her to come home. Finally he sees her, stumbling up the walk. A light glints off the bottle in her hand, which is all wrong. Katniss doesn't drink. Prim and her mother follow him to the door. He opens it as she reaches the top step, and pulls her to him, tears in his eyes. "I was wrong. We should have gone when you said," he whispers. He takes in the mostly empty bottle and her bloody hand.

"No," Katniss slurs, sloshing white liquor down his back. Gale doesn't notice.

He is insistent, or simply desperate. "It's not too late," he says. Surely they can find a way out of the district before the Capitol closes in on her again. He would do anything to save her from this.

She answers, "Yeah, it is" woozily, before collapsing into his arms. The liquor bottle slips from her fingers and shatters at their feet.

Gale stands there a moment, Katniss' light frame weighing on him. He sighs heavily, refusing to let free the tears collecting in his eyes. He hoists her up into his arms. He turns back into the house, telling Prim to clear off the table as he carries her limp body in to the kitchen where their mother sees to her patients. He had been a patient on this same table himself not so long ago.

By the time he has Katniss on the table, Prim is already pulling out supplies from the medicine cabinet as Mrs. Everdeen heats water on the stove. He retreats to a corner of the room, feeling lost and awkwardly out of place while they get to work, cleaning her and tending to her injured hand. He can't help wince as they pull shards of glass from the cut on her hand and stitch he hand back together. When they finish, Mrs. Everdeen turns to him and asks, "Can you carry her upstairs, Gale?"

He pulls her back into his arms and takes her upstairs to the bedroom, where he leaves her with her mom. Downstairs, Prim confronts him. She asks him, "gone where? Should've gone where, Gale?" He looks at her hopelessly. "The woods. She wanted to go; she wanted us all to go. She wanted to save you."

Prim looks doubtful, so Gale continues, "She'll do whatever she can to keep you safe, Prim."

Prim shakes her head. "But I'm just worried for her! We thought ... we thought with the photo shoot ... that meant things would be okay. I was so excited ..." Prim stops short, seeming to realize how different Gale's reaction to the wedding dresses would have been. "I'm sorry," she meekly ends, as they walk through the house.

"Mom's friend died in the last Quell," she whispers shakily, as they reach the front door together.

Gale wraps his arms around the blonde. "Katniss isn't going to die, Prim. She won't leave you. No matter what happens."

Prim sniffles against Gale's shirt. After a few moments, she straightens herself and looks up at the tall hunter. "Thanks, Gale. Mom's much better now, you know. We'll take care of her. We'll do whatever Katniss needs."

Gale smiles sadly, seeing how much Prim has grown up in such a short time. It reminds him of his brothers. Prim is family to him, just as they are. "Me too, Prim," he agrees.


	26. After Peeta's Rescue (MJ)

**A/N: Okay, the chapter title is lame. I hope you enjoy this take on Hazelle's side of the story after Peeta's rescue!  
**

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Hazelle was trying to adjust to the danger her son Gale was facing. She was proud of him, for fighting for a new and better world, but hated feeling so powerless over what might happen to him. They had all been thrown into the strange new world of district 13 after their rescue from the woods around 12, leaving her in almost constant worry over her son's involvement in the war. She knew why he did it though. She knew that he cared as much as she did for her childrens' futures.

She had been so worried when he almost didn't make it down to the bunkers when district 13 was bombed. Gale was pulled from her before they had even left the bunker when the all-clear was given, and she hadn't seen him since. He hadn't even been to their new compartment yet. Yesterday Haymitch had found her in the dining hall and told her Gale was on a rescue mission. Apparently the rescue team, including Gale, had left suddenly leaving no time for him to say goodbye. Not knowing what might be happening to her son, Hazelle had been up half the night, worried for his safety.

In the morning, she pulled herself together enough to wake the kids, and help Posy get cleaned and dressed. It's when the machine in the wall prints their daily schedules onto their arms that Hazelle's day took a sharp turn for the worse. It was when she saw her day's schedule printed on her arm that her anxiety and anger took over. There in purple ink, was a frustratingly opaque suggestion of trouble. Immediately after breakfast, her schedule read "Hospital - Visiting Hours."

She froze in place, horrified, eyes locked on the barely dry ink. Hazelle could not believe that a district could operate in such an inhumane way. There was no one other than the children, who were safely with her in their family compartment, and Gale, who was sent out on another dangerous mission, that she would be visiting in the hospital. Clearly something had happened to Gale, but the purple ink on her arm gave no suggestion of what had happened or how serious his condition was.

Hazelle knew there was no way she would be able to wait until after breakfast to find out. After a brief glance over her children, she made a quick decision. Somehow quelling the fear that rose up inside her, she asked Vick to help Posy get her shoes on, and took Rory into his bedroom so the younger kids won't overhear them. Rory had been helping out more and more lately, and she knew she could rely on him.

"Rory," she said quietly, "I need you to help Vick and Posy this morning. Can you take them to breakfast and then to school?"

Surprised, Rory quickly agreed, "Uh, yeah Ma. Is everything okay?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. Carefully she told him, "I think Gale is in the hospital and I need to go find out if he's okay." At Rory's obvious concern, she added, "I think since you all have your regular schedules today, he's probably fine. If there's anything wrong I'll come and get you all as soon as I can. He's probably fine, sweetie. Can I count on you to take care of Posy? You'll need to walk her to her classroom at the school."

Rory nodded seriously and Hazelle kissed his forehead before returning to where Vick and Posy were waiting by the door. She told Vick and Posy that she had an important errand and they were to listen to Rory and go with him to breakfast and school. Trusting in Rory to handle his younger siblings, Hazelle rushed to the hospital.

At first the man at the reception desk stubbornly refused to admit Hazelle, given that she wasn't scheduled for visiting hours for another hour. Infuriated, Hazelle nearly broke down. All her fear and frustration poured out of her as she berated the man, insisting she see her son at once. The receptionist, who was merely trying to do his job, was taken aback and looked quickly around for escape. Luckily, a nearby nurse came to his aid and quickly signed Hazelle in as a visitor.

Hazelle hurried to the room the nurse had directed her to. Most of the hospital was quiet, the melee of the rescue team long since over. Seeing her son stretched out in front of her, she cried, "GALE!"

Her cry brought him to full alertness. When his eyes sprang open in surprise, she gasped, "Oh thank heaven!" She saw the bandage wrapped around his torso, evidence of another round of injuries, and felt at a loss. "Are you ... Oh No. What happened? Gale WHAT were you thinking?"

Embarrassed by her outcry he answered her, "Ma! Ssh. It's okay. You're going to wake half the hospital."

Reaching for her son, she argued, "Okay? Okay? It is not Okay! The Capitol, Gale? Do you know how dangerous that was? You can't just -"

Gale cut her off, "Dangerous? Ma we're in a war. It's dangerous anywhere."

Flustered, Hazelle cried, "Gale! You can't just run off without -"

"Without what Ma?" he countered. "Look I'm sorry I didn't tell you. There was no time. I'll be okay. It's just my shoulder."

She held him tightly to her, tears slipping from her tightly shut eyes as she reassured herself he was here. After a shaky breath, she released him.

Gale met her gaze and said simply, "He saved 13. We had to rescue him." He. Peeta. Hazelle wondered how much it was that sense of quid pro quo justice, and how much it was Katniss, that committed Gale to the rescue mission, but she didn't want to push him on such a touchy subject.

"Do you know I had to learn from Haymitch? Haymitch!" she told him ruefully.

He chuckled, imagining Haymitch facing the wrath of his distraught mother, then winced at the pain that shot through his chest. "I am sorry, Ma," he said earnestly.

"I know," she answered, concern still showing on her face. "I just worry for you, Gale. I hate this war. I know things were never easy back home, but at least we were together. Now the kids and I are safe and well-fed but you're in constant danger. I just don't want anything - anything MORE - to happen to you."

"Ma, you know what this war means. I have to do this. If I could I would kill every one of _them_."

Tears sprang to Hazelle's eyes again. She knew their enemies deserved anything the rebellion brought them, but no matter how terrible the enemy was, hearing such cold words from her son wasn't easy. With a sad sigh, Hazelle nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes, telling him, "Your father would be so proud." She pulled the chair over to the side of the bed. Squeezing his hand in hers, she said, "Alright, tell me what happened."

Gale recounted what he could remember of the rescue mission, from Katniss' collapse to the mission team's arrival back in district 13. He didn't hold back; they had always been honest with each other, and he was sure she'd know if he sugarcoated what had happened.

Hazelle wanted to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, as Gale's life was more and more consumed by Katniss and the war as Hazelle struggled to keep her family together and integrate into district 13 life. When he had finished his account of the rescue mission, she watched him for a moment before gently asking, "Are you okay?"

Gale sighed. After a few minutes, he admitted what still weighed heavily on his mind. "I screwed up Ma. With Katniss, she thinks she can't trust me." After a pause, he explained, "There was another interview with Peeta, before the bombing, before the last trip to 12. He was trying to turn Katniss against the rebels. They thought Katniss didn't know and .. I didn't tell her. I thought it would be better ... or they did. She said - she said I was lying to her for Coin."

Hazelle didn't answer. She believed Katniss felt something for Gale, but that her televised relationship with Peeta had some truth to it too. She was glad Gale still felt he could talk with her. Despite Katniss' obvious reliance on Gale since the war began she worried that Gale was going to get his heart broken. If Katniss wasn't here with Gale, did that mean she was with Peeta? HAzelle wondered how much longer it would be before Katniss chose one or the other boy, given that they would now all be in district 13 and no longer under Snow's thumb.

Gale finally asked, "How are the kids? Is Posy giving you much trouble?"

Hazelle smiled. Posy usually wanted her big brother Gale to tuck her in and tell her a bedtime story every night. The little girl hadn't adjusted to his absences well. "Actually," Hazelle answered, "Rory put her to bed last night. I was ... a little distracted. I saw Haymitch as we were leaving dinner, and he said there was nothing for me to do but go home and wait."

"Rory huh?" Gale smiled.

"He's been helping out a lot lately. Actually, I left him in charge of getting Vick and Post to breakfast and school this morning too. He wants to be just like you you know."

Gale was grateful that Rory was too young to join the military. He wanted his family safe and didn't want his little brother put in the kind of danger he faced. Rory was still a kid. As he listened to his mother talk about each of his siblings, he regretted how little he'd seen them recently. Remembering their "I Spy" game in the bunker, he made a note to ask Beetee about taking his family to visit the Hummingbird room, once he was released from the hospital.

Too soon a nurse came in to check on Gale and Hazelle knew she had to go. She stood from her chair and kissed Gale's forehead. "Get some rest, Gale."

"Thanks Ma," Gale said.

On her way down the hallway, Hazelle ran into a very tired-looking Primrose Everdeen in her medical assistant's uniform. "Hi, Primrose. How are you?"


	27. Rory's bedtime story (MJ)

**A/N: A new perspective :) Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks for reviewing! Let me know if you think I should include more stories for Rory (& vick/posy) or if you prefer Hazelle / Gale.**

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Rory settles his little sister Posy into bed, tucking the stiff white sheets snugly around her. He can hear his mother's footsteps pacing on the cold concrete floor of the hall. Rory's older brother Gale is gone on a mission with the rebellion, and their mother has been frantic with worry all evening.

Too young to join the military and sick of being treated like a kid, Rory is trying to take over the things his absent brother used to do, like tucking Posy in at night. "Tell me a story?" the little girl asks, her eyes pleading pathetically.

He listens to the footsteps in the hall for a minute, imagining his sister's tantrum if he says no, and their mother's reaction. Posy is used to getting her way, and when she gets an inch she'll take a mile. Rory agrees to a story saying, "okay, but only one and then you have to promise to go to sleep." Posy nods excitedly and tries to sit up until Rory adds, "and you have to stay in bed."

Rory pauses for a minute to search his imagination for a story as Posy waits in suspense. Remembering the wild drawings in his classmate Samantha's notebook he begins, 'Once a long time ago ...' He starts his story, being careful not to include anything that might be scary to Posy.

'Once a long time ago in a district far far away from here, was a young girl who tended her family's chickens. Every morning she would collect the eggs and feed the hens bits of grass and grain.'

'One cold winter morning, it was so cold the girl' - he couldn't just say _the girl_ through the whole story. He used the first name that came to mind.

'it was so cold that _Prim_ had to rub her cold hands together to keep them warm. She was collecting eggs from the henhouse when she found something very strange in one of the nests. It looked like an egg, but twice as big as the chicken eggs and amber in color. When she reached for it, it was so hot that it almost burned her cold hands!'

Posy sits up and interrupts her brother asking, "Like a piece of coal? Hey Rory remember that time I got a burn 'cause I touched the coal and it was still hot and it hurt real bad and Mama got so mad ..."

Rory shushes his sister telling her, "I remember Posy. But if you want to hear the story you've got to lay down and be quiet, remember?"

With a pout Posy lays back down. Rory continues his story:

'Prim took the amber egg and tucked it into a pocket on the front of her apron. She was excited by the strange egg, but wanted to keep her special discovery all to herself. She didn't tell anyone about the amber egg hidden in her apron, but hid it away behind her bed when her mother called her to breakfast.'

'All day at school Prim thought about the egg. As soon as she got home from school she rushed to check on it. Though usually the bedroom was so cold in the winter she could see her breath, today the room was warm as if it were a sunny spring day. When she went to pull the egg from behind the bed, she could feel the heat radiating from the area before she even touched the egg. Holding the egg in the hand, it warmed her cold fingers and seemed to brighten the entire room. Amazed, she peered closely at the egg. She looked at every speckled dot on its surface. Just then, the egg seemed to move in her hand, surprising Prim so she almost dropped it. She held the egg tightly in her hand, and she felt something move with a jerk once inside the egg, and then it jerked again.'

Posy is laying still and listening quietly to Rory's story. Seeing that her eyes are drooping, Rory continues along, lowering his voice to just above a whisper.

'Prim had never seen an egg that kept warm on its own, but she'd seen chicken eggs hatch before. Carefully she set the egg on the middle of the bed and watched as a thin crack developed across the surface of the egg. Within minutes, the crack had broadened and a small beak had poked its way through the shell. At least, Prim thought it was a beak. But when the egg cracked open and the little creature's head poked out of the shell, it looked nothing like a baby chicken. It looked nothing like anything Prim had seen in her whole life. The closest thing she could remember was the lizard that her older brother had shown her last summer when they were playing in the woods, but this creature had spiky scales along the back of its neck and a web of skin connecting its front legs to its body. Prim was amazed.'

'As she watched, the little lizard poked its head around and sniffed at its surroundings. Prim held out her hand in front of the small thing, holding her breath inside her as it sniffed her fingers and hopped into her hand. Then it nipped the tip of her finger with its tiny mouth, and Prim let out a squeal even though it didn't hurt her. The little lizard looked up like it heard her, and made it's own squeaky noise.'

Glancing down at his sister, Rory sees that Posy has fallen fast asleep. He shakes his head, amazed that she fell asleep right when _he_ thought the story was getting interesting. He almost wants to keep his story about the baby dragon going, but if Posy is asleep there isn't really a point. He wonders if she'd like more bedtime stories about Prim's adventures with a baby dragon. Quietly he sneaks out of the room Posy shares with their mother.

From the hallway he sees his mom seated at the table worrying about his brother Gale. Rory wishes he could go on exciting missions like Gale. Even Prim - the real Prim - gets to work in the hospital while Rory is stuck in school. They treat him like he was still a little kid. It isn't fair. Grumbling to himself, Rory crosses the hall to the bedroom he shares with his brothers. His little brother Vick is already asleep as Rory climbs into his bed. He thinks again about Samantha's drawings he'd seen in school - of menacing dragons with people riding on their backs. When he asked her what they were, she had said that dragons lived a long time ago and her mom used to tell her stories about them. Rory falls asleep wishing he had a dragon. He would ride on it's back and fly all over Panem and have adventures like Gale.


	28. Required Viewing (HG)

**A/N: Thanks to BookFreak976 for the suggestion for this chapter. This is Hazelle's perspective on the earlier "Tribute Interviews" Chapter. Some ****of the text is quoting directly from Suzanne Collins' text in The Hunger Games.**

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It's required viewing. The games don't start until tomorrow, but tonight they're broadcasting the tribute interviews when Caesar Flickerman, the slimy host of the Hunger Games, tries his best to weasel personal stories out of the children heading to their deaths in the arena. Another year, another slate of tributes we're forced to watch battle to their deaths. Only this year won't be like the rest; my son's closest friend and hunting partner is a volunteer. To say it's been tense watching the pre-game broadcasts would be an understatement.

Katniss is strong, independent, and skilled, which gives her a better chance in the games than anyone from district 12 has had for years. She's also pretty, which should help her win over fans in the Capitol where looks seem to be all they care about. She and the other district tribute, a boy named Peeta Mellark, have already made an impression on the Capitol audience. Their flashy entrance in the opening ceremony has since been bolstered by the best training scores I can remember for our district.

I'm relieved Katniss did so well in training. With her history of hunting to feed her family and impeccable aim, her score - an almost perfect 11 - was no surprise to those of us who know her but still a relief, especially for Gale. Tonight on the other hand might not play so well to Katniss' strengths. She can be charming but she is a very private person with a contrarian streak, so answering Flickerman's questions may be a problem.

When the tributes walk onto the stage, I instinctively watch for Katniss toward the end of the line. The audience cheers as the tributes take the stage, but the cheering seems particularly loud when she first appears - or perhaps it is simply that more cheering than I'm used to hearing for a district 12 tribute.

Soon I see I shouldn't have worried; Katniss will strike the Capitol audience dumb on her looks alone. I have to hand it to her stylists, who have created unbelievable show-stopping costumes for our tributes this year, nothing like the coal miner costumes we're used to seeing. Katniss is nothing less than ravishing by any standards, and I'm sure the Capitol audience will go crazy for this dramatic look. Her fiery dress shimmers in reds and yellows and whites, and the stage lights glint off her with every move giving the illusion that she is again, a girl on fire. She looks dangerous, and I'm sure this will only enhance their impression of the girl who scored an 11 in training.

Most of the interviews are predictable and forgettable. I mourn for these children, but after a lifetime of these games I am resigned to know that their memories will fade quickly for all but their closest families and friends. I'm sure in the Capitol they're each garnering some interest in the target audience. It exhausts me simply thinking of these children's brief futures. I fear the long lived burden for those who lose someone to the games. Everyone in our district touched by the games - from our one victor Haymitch Abernathy, to the Camor family here in the Seam, to the mayor's wife - have been broken by it. I worry whether Gale would be able to move on if she dies.

The girl from district 1 is scarcely clothed. She's what I secretly think of as the annual sacrificial lamb to the disgusting leeches of the Capitol. There is always at least one girl whose mentors and stylists have decided to play up the sexy angle and take it too far. It makes me sick how the tributes are treated as pieces of meat in a butcher shop. Of course, that skimpy outfit will catch the eye of boys and men around Panem. I am relieved that Gale seems appropriately disgusted by the display.

I sit at the table to work on a pile of clothing that needs mending as we watch the broadcast. I keep a close eye on Gale, not because of the skimpily dressed girl but because I can see the tension building in him as we wait for Katniss' interview. The next interview that stands out is the boy from district 2, who is scarily aggressive like so many careers who become ruthless killers in the arena. Meanwhile Posy clambers for Gale's attention but I can see he is trying to figure out Katniss' opponents as if somehow he could improve her odds. Posy's pushed one of her rag dolls into his hand, but he's not paying attention to her attempts to engage him in her playtime. Eventually Posy gives up trying to keep his attention and plays on her own on the far side of the couch.

One interview after the next, the tributes each get their few minutes to win over the audience of sponsors and to be seen by their families one last time under the illusion of safety. I don't pay close attention to most of them. Finally, after the tiny girl and hulking boy tribute from district 11, Katniss is called up to center stage where she greets Caesar nervously, and I focus again on the broadcast and the effect it will have on our family.

Caesar begins smoothly with a question about what's impressed her in the Capitol. I think we all hold our breath as we wait for her response. Gale stares intently at the screen as if he can control Katniss' interview by force of will. Katniss pauses, looking anxiously over the crowd. Something or someone seems to calm her nerves and she answers firmly, "the lamb stew," which gets a small laugh from both the host and their audience. He continues the joke for moment before moving on to ask her about the opening ceremonies. Katniss again earns a laugh for her response about being scared of burning alive before graciously praising her stylist.

When Katniss twirls in her glittery dress showing off her stylist's design, she looks more girlish than I have ever seen her. It's an amazing effect, as the dress seems to engulf her in non-threatening flames. After several spins Katniss grabs on to Caesar's arm to balance herself, giggling sweetly as she tells him how dizzy she is. I'm completely shocked at her transformation. Gale looks as if he can't even recognize her as we watch her spin and as Flickerman's arm wraps around her with a joke about Haymitch's drinking. Haymitch actually waves off the joke with a deprecating smile. Then Caesar asks her about her training score. Though Gale is scowling, I smile thinking of exactly how she would have gotten her score.

Katniss, though, is coy with the slick host, confirming with the Gamemakers in the balcony above that she isn't allowed to say. Gale nods approvingly, surely thinking that she needs to keep her best talents a secret as long as possible for the games. The Capitol audience will find out soon enough, if Katniss can survive the Cornucopia tomorrow.

Then Caesar digs into this tribute's personal tragedy as he always does, bringing up the reaping and Katniss' decision to volunteer. Her quiet voice rings through the silent City Circle as she tells them about Prim and how she promised her she would try and win. I glance at my son, a bit relieved that we've seen this small piece of the real Katniss tonight. Perhaps it will help him when he sees her in the arena.

Katniss gets a huge reaction from the audience as her interview time comes to an end, making me wonder which part of her performance has resonated with the audience of sponsors. I wonder if she was memorable enough to win support there. At least she didn't hurt her chances, I think.

Rory and Vick quickly lose interest again and Gale visibly relaxes as Katniss takes her seat and Peeta moves to center stage. Peeta. I don't know much about the boy from town and I'd rather keep it that way. It's often easiest to learn as little as possible about our own tributes, knowing their families are suffering somewhere just down the road and that there is nothing we can do about it. We can't ignore Katniss in the games no matter how slim her chances of surviving are. But for Peeta, as for many other district tributes over the years, I simply hope for a quick and painless death. I don't tune out entirely but my focus returns to the laundry. Early and continuous laughter from the broadcast tells me that Peeta is proving himself to be charming. Bantering with Flickerman from the very start, he seems to be expertly deflecting his answers from anything personal.

Eventually Caesar pushes him into more personal territory by asking about a girlfriend. That sleazy Flickerman weasels Peeta into admitting some crush. When Peeta starts talking about some girl he secretly likes, I see Gale's fists tightly gripping the doll Posy left with him. Uneasily I watch the screen, wondering if Gale knows the girl or if he's merely upset that Peeta's ease in front of the audience is stealing the show from Katniss' interview.

My heart goes out to her, whoever she is, who will have to live with the burden of a tribute's crush.

Then comes the bombshell. Peeta says, "I don't think it's going to work out. Winning . . . won't help in my case."

"Why ever not?" asks Caesar, puzzled.

Peeta's easy-going manner seems to have evaporated. Blushing he stammers, "Because . . . because . . . she came here with me."

I look straight to Gale, whose hands are still clenched around the doll. The muscles of his jaw and hands contract and flex as he fights to contain his emotion in front of us. From the periphery of my view I see the screen change to show Katniss, before flickering back to Peeta. With impulsive anger Gale tears the two halves of the doll apart and hurls them across the room. Posy starts to wail. Hurrying to calm Posy, I toss a reproachful glance Gale's way as I scoop the shrieking girl into my arms, though secretly I am relieved he's so controlled. After all, a rag doll can be mended.

The broadcast ends. I tell Rory and Vick to go clean up to get ready for bed as I calm Posy down and convince her to hug her brothers goodnight. Gale barely reacts when Posy grudgingly hugs his legs before I take her to bed.

Once the kids are settled into bed, I return to my mending at the table. There are still a few pairs of socks to mend, and now a rag doll to repair. In the quiet I stitch up the worn socks. Across the room, Gale doesn't move. He is still staring at the black screen. When I've finished the pair of socks I'm working on I gently say, "Gale, honey, you've been staring at the television for half an hour. They aren't going to broadcast anything more until tomorrow. Why don't you try and get some rest?"

He looks up at me blankly. "Yeah, ma, I guess."

He unfolds himself from the worn couch and silently slips into the bedroom where Vick and Rory are already sleeping. I will probably not see him tomorrow morning; he'll be out of the house as soon as possible to check his snares before the games begin. I hope that he will find some peace out there in the woods. Once she's in the arena it's going to be even harder on him.

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**A/N: what do you think?**


	29. A new mission (MJ)

**A/N: Gale learns of the mission to District 2. Thanks for reading! I think this relates to a few requests I've gotten about seeing different characters, so thanks all for the thoughts & ideas.**

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Posy had been particularly clingy that morning, refusing to let him go before he'd walked her all the way to her school classroom. Normally Gale rushed off to training immediately after breakfast. This morning when their schedules were printed onto their arms, he'd been surprised to see his training sessions had been replaced with extra time working with Beetee in Special Defense. He didn't mind, and knowing Beetee wouldn't be nearly as strict as the commanders in training, he'd humored Posy and taken her to school, even though it meant being late to Special Defense. Beetee seemed to live in Special Defense, and probably wouldn't be aware of the time anyway.

Gale was happy to be working with the district 3 victor. The guy might be eccentric but he was smart, and Gale found Beetee actually valued his opinion and helped him look at problems in new ways. They could discuss strategy and tactics for hours and Gale would leave every time feeling energized about the war effort.

"Sorry I'm late," Gale muttered as he hurried into Beetee's work area.

The old inventor's head swiveled to the door, tilting back so he could peer at Gale from under his glasses. Beetee was easily distracted and one of his many nervous habits was checking the traffic when people were coming and going.

"Ah Gale, you're here," he exclaimed anxiously. "I hope you're ready to put on your thinking cap! I believe we've got some real doozies to puzzle out today."

Gale paused, wondering if Beetee had invented some new headwear he expected them to wear. "Thinking cap? You want me to what?"

"Oh, no no my boy, it's just an expression we have, must be a district 3 saying. Although I have had some ideas for that ... but my first few tries didn't work out," Beetee sighed.

"So did you want to work on how we can take over those tunnels into the Capitol?" Gale asked. He and Beetee had talked about the tunnel problem briefly during their last meeting, and given that almost all the districts were won, he had found the question Beetee had posed of gaining access to the Capitol on his mind. It was one of the major reasons the rebellion in the dark days had failed. Troops trying to attack the Capitol had been easy prey for the Capitol's airforce.

Beetee gave Gale a thoughtful look under his glasses before jerking his head into a nod. "The tunnels. Yes, that's right. We believe the real problem with the tunnels is in the air though. The Capitol has us outpowered with their airforce based in 2."

"Right," Gale agreed. "So if we come up with a reliable way to take out those hovercraft ..."

"Or?" Beetee asked. It was just like Beetee to give this kind of leading response, and Gale knew it meant he had started seeing the problem from a different perspective.

"Or what?" Gale asked in return.

"Or - or we take control of their airforce," Beetee replied.

"In district two?" Gale asked.

Beetee confirmed the guess with a quick nod.

Gale nodded thoughtfully. "Instead of swatting at individual bees, we control the hive?"

"That's exactly it!" Beetee agreed excitedly. "Even if we find a way through the tunnels the Capitol will still have the upper hand. This we know. Our forces in the streets of the Capitol would be - what did you call it? A sitting duck. As long as they have that air force."

Beetee was right. If the Capitol's airforce could be taken over by the rebels, it would mean a lot for the rebel troops. Gale felt his heart pick up its pace, wondering if he was interpreting what Beetee meant correctly. He pressed Beetee, "So what's going on in District 2?"

Beetee answered, "District 2 is the last holdout beyond the Capitol. The rebels haven't had any luck against the central forces though. They're looking for some help. What do you think?"

"Do you mean a mission?" Gale asked eagerly.

"Plutarch's calling it an on-site consultation. They want our best team. I could really use you there, Gale."

A mission to district 2 to take out the Capitol's air force? Gale was stupefied. Katniss had said she didn't want to interrupt his work with Beetee. Well now his work was going to take him to her. What more could he ask for?

Realizing he hadn't answered his mentor yet Gale said hurriedly, "yeah, of course. I'm in. When do we go? For how long?"

"We'll be leaving in two days. Not a lot of time for us to prepare. I've requested all the specs but all the attacks so far have failed. We should go over some background before the trip. Can't say how long yet, that'll depend on what bright ideas we come up with!"

Gale spent the rest of the day with Beetee, learning about district 2 and its impenetrable mountain fortress. Beetee focused their last few hours on the computer systems the Capitol used in district 2. Beetee was a whiz with those systems and considered it the key to victory, but Gale had so little understanding of the technology involved that most of it went over his head. By the end of the day he was worried that Beetee would be disappointed if he couldn't contribute to the mission.

* * *

Gale's thoughts were racing as he headed to the dining hall. He couldn't wait to go to district two, to be in on the assault on the district fortress, and not least of all to see Katniss.

He missed her. It had been almost two weeks since she left, and he wasn't used to being away from her so long. It had happened before, but only for the Games and the Victory Tour, when she was being broadcast straight into his home by the Capitol. That was a different brand of torture than this complete absence. He knew Haymitch had talked to her, but the guy didn't have much to say on the topic.

With his break from Katniss and the Mockingjay team, he'd had more time for his family, too. He smiled remembering their visit to the Hummingbird Room in Special Defense. He knew his Ma wouldn't be happy about him leaving on another mission. Beetee seemed to understand and had given him tomorrow afternoon off, to spend with family and take care of things before the trip. Hopefully that would help placate Hazelle. Gale loved his family but right then he just wanted to throw himself into the war effort and help the rebels win.

Gale had to admit another reason for looking forward to the mission. He couldn't wait to breathe the fresh air of district 2. He hated being stuck underground all the time. If it weren't for his work with Beetee, Gale would be unhinged by now. The work gave him something to focus on and helped him feel like he was still doing something for the war. Just thinking of the crisp clean air brought a lightness to his gait.

As he approached the cafeteria, the hallway grew crowded with people heading between their work, their home, or their dinner. With his thoughts on the mission, he didn't notice her come up behind him until a voice hummed in his year, "Hey Handsome." He didn't let his surprise show. Turning, he wondered whether it was her stealth or his distraction that allowed her to sneak up on him. Her brown eyes pierced his as he took in the victor's appearance.

He'd seen her in the hospital - first the night before he was released from the hospital, when he'd gone looking for Katniss, then again on one of his follow-up visits. She looked slightly less skeletal than when she'd been rescued, though the district 13 uniform still hung off her tiny frame. A light fuzz of regrowing hair clothed her scalp. Her wild look still reminded him of a caged animal. "Going somewhere?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, untrusting.

Conspiratorially Johanna answered, "You don't look completely miserable. So tell me gorgeous, you taking a field trip out of this hole?"

She must have heard something about the mission. She was perceptive, but she barely knew him. "Bad habit, listening in on other people's conversations," Gale said, ignoring the question.

She rolled her eyes. "We're in a war and you're worried about eavesdropping. So innocent."

Grunting, he asked her, "So what are you doing here? Did someone let you out or did they just leave the cage door open?" Over her shoulder he noticed his brothers coming down the hall. He caught Rory's eye and looked back to Jo as the boys headed in his direction.

Smiling wickedly she said, "_Let_ me out? What fun would that be?"

As Rory and Vick caught up to Gale, she cocked her head to the side and looked at the boys, who at their young age were already as tall as her. "Innocence. It never lasts," she said to them, before walking off down the hall.

"Who was that?" Rory asked.

"Tell ya later," answered Gale. "Come on, dinner time. Where's Ma and Posy?"

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! :)**


	30. Gale visits the hospital (MJ)

**A/N: Gale visits Peeta in the hospital. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to Vedastus for suggesting this, and to both Vedastus and Belle453 for the beta. :) Thanks for reading!**

* * *

At the entrance to the hospital, Gale again hesitated before pulling open the door and stepping inside. He was stopped at the front desk by a nurse who curtly demanded, "Name?"

He sighed. "Gale Hawthorne. Just visiting"

"Who are you here to see?" she asked.

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Gale muttered, "Umm... Mellark. Peeta."

"Peeta Mellark?" The woman looked at him suspiciously. "Do you have someone to check you in?"

"Didn't know I'd need to."

After a pause, she sighed and said, "We'll have to check with his doctors."

"Yeah, you do that," Gale snapped.

"It will be a few minutes. You can have a seat," the woman replied, nodding toward two forlorn chairs along the wall.

Grumbling, Gale ignored the chairs and paced the tiny waiting area. He hadn't seen Peeta since the rescue, but he knew what had happened with Katniss. And he knew she'd seen him here in the hospital before she left for District 2. He still couldn't imagine Peeta turning so completely against her though. He may not have liked it, but he couldn't help knowing how the baker boy felt about her. Gale just needed to see for himself before this mission to District 2. Gale's thoughts were interrupted when he almost tripped over a pair of district 13's standard issue shoes that had stepped into his path.

Gale looked up into blue eyes and instinctively thought of town. That impulse remained though Gale had grown used to meeting the blue eyed gaze of Boggs and other district 13 soldiers. But in district 13 nobody's eyes were as deep blue as these.

The blonde teen looked at him cheerily. "Gale! Hi. It's nice to see you. Are you visiting someone?"

Gale frowned at her, but she seemed impervious to his glare, watching him inquiringly. Not many townies had survived to get to district 13. He hadn't seen much of them here; the girl in front of him was a little leaner than he remembered. Must be the rationed food; everyone was given just what they needed and no more here in the underground. She looked older, and stronger. Her curly hair was pulled back into a long blonde braid. He should have expected her to be here, with Peeta.

"See Peeta. If they'll let me," he answered, glancing toward the reception desk.

"What? Don't be silly. Of course you can see him."

Gale's eyes narrowed. "Says you?" It was just like an entitled townie to act like she could make her own rules. He felt uncomfortable reminding himself that she was talking about getting him in to see Peeta.

She laughed, surprising Gale. "You were on the rescue team. Why wouldn't you be able to see him?"

Before he could answer, she spun on her heel and stepped up to the desk. To the nurse at reception, she cheerily explained, "Hi Laila. I'm heading back to see Peeta. I'll take Gale here back with me."

Laila smiled back. "Okay hon. Thanks. Just sign him in for me too will you?" She handed the blonde a clipboard. The girl scribbled in the information, handed the pen to Gale for him to sign his name, and passed it back across the desk. Then she swung her backpack onto her shoulder and smiled at Gale brightly. "Follow me!"

As he followed her down the hall, Gale wondered how often she came to see Peeta. Most people wouldn't be on a first-name basis with the reception nurse unless they were coming every day, but Delly Cartwright was not most people. Delly Cartwright would make friends with a desk chair.

"Is your shoulder feeling better? I heard you were hurt in the rescue. You were so brave to volunteer. I would be too scared to break into a Capitol prison," Delly gushed.

"It's fine," Gale muttered.

"I can't imagine what it was like. What they've done to Peeta – it's terrible," she continued.

Gale sighed. Knowing he couldn't escape this conversation, he asked, "How is he?"

"Better. He's doing better. He's got such great doctors helping him." She sounded hesitant though, as if she was trying to convince herself it was true.

She stopped in front of a door and said, "here we are. Just don't get in the doctors' way and you'll be fine." Delly advised.

Gale followed her into a darkened room where two doctors sat facing the large glass panel that looked in on Peeta's hospital room. The doctors glanced up briefly from their clipboards, acknowledging the newcomers. One turned her attention back to the window, but the younger of the two gave Gale a quizzical glance before smiling at Delly. Gale could tell immediately the guy was interested in her.

"Hi Delly," he said.

"Hi Sheldon," she answered in the same friendly way she'd greeted Gale a few minutes before. "Sorry I'm late. This is Gale. He's Katniss' friend. It's okay if he watches, right?"

Gale wondered briefly if Delly was flirting to get him in here, or if he would have been let in anyway. He quickly decided he didn't care, and tried to tune out the couple as he turned his attention to the view through the window.

Peering through the glass into a brightly lit hospital room, he saw Peeta sitting upright in his hospital bed, hooked into some machine with a dozen different monitors, a tube sticking out of his arm and a pillow clenched in his hands. A restraint across his torso limited his movement. A doctor was taking notes from one of the monitors. Then an eerie static crackled through the air and a disembodied voice echoed through the room, "And can you tell me where we are?"

Peeta responded hostilely, "The same place I've been for weeks? Some hospital? I can tell you what you've told me, that we're in district 13. Which is supposed to be rubble. Since you don't let me out of this room, it's a little hard to say for sure. It might as well be a prison."

There's another long pause as the doctor records something off a monitor.

"Where do you think you are?" asked the voice in a neutral tone. This time Gale realized the voice was the doctor's. Peeta growled in anger and took several deep breaths, burying his face in the pillow.

"Geez, what is this?" Gale muttered.

"Reverse brainwashing," Sheldon said with a sigh.

"It's so hard on him," Delly mumbled sympathetically. "Oh I forgot! I got some dough from the kitchens. Can we try it?" She looked to her doctor friend expectantly.

Sheldon looked to the other doctor, who nodded agreement. Gale was surprised by the exchange; he didn't see what dough had to do with anything or why they would want it here, but he got the impression this was something everyone else in the room had already agreed on.

"Let's have it," Sheldon said. Delly pulled a jar from her bag and together they poured the bread dough out onto a plastic tray.

On the other side of the glass, Peeta gritted his teeth and said, "Fine. District 13. Delly says it's District 13. It's not the Capitol. It's not home."

Sheldon looked at Delly. "Do you want to take it in to him? It might work better if it comes from you."

She nodded, walked out into the hall and in a moment there was a knock on Peeta's door. Glaring, Peeta folded him arms in his lap as Delly walked in carrying the tray in front of him. "Hi Peeta. Hi Dr. Minos. Peeta, I brought you some bread dough from the kitchens here."

As she passed the tray over to Peeta, Gale wondered how Delly had gotten her hands on bread dough in the first place. He had to give her some credit - maybe she was more resourceful than he'd realized. Or maybe she'd just batted her eyelashes at some poor schmuck in the kitchens. He shook his head, reminding himself he wasn't here to figure out Delly Cartwright. He just wanted to see Peeta.

Peeta eyed the dough doubtfully as Delly explained, "It's not quite like home I think."

Peeta took the dough in his hand, tentatively testing its weight and stretching it for elasticity. "No, it's not," he answered quietly.

Delly turned to leave with a smile on her face. Her hand was on the door when Peeta said, "Wait. Delly – will you stay?"

"Of course. If it's okay with Dr. Minos," she said, taking her hand from the door and pulling out a stool to sit on.

"Right," said Dr. Minos. "Let me see, where were we … Oh yes. What can you tell me about Prim?"

Peeta tensed immediately, the dough squishing through his fingers as he clenched his fists.

"Take your time," the doctor told him.

"She came to see me. She has hair like Delly's," Peeta said, his eyes flickering to the blonde, who nodded encouragingly. He looked down to the dough in his hands, purposefully kneading it between his hands. "She was nice. She works in the hospital. She – she's from home. From district 12. She had a goat."

It all seemed off to Gale. Why were they asking about Prim? And why wouldn't Peeta mention Katniss? If someone asked Gale about Prim, the first thing he'd think was that she's Katniss' sister.

The doctor prodded, "And what else do you remember from district 12? What about your family?"

Peeta stared at the dough as he massaged it into different shapes. He stayed like that quietly for several minutes before saying quietly, "My family owned the bakery. I baked bread. And I frosted the cakes."

Peeta's face contorted as his hands worked the bread dough. "We worked in the bakery. We made bread. Like this, but with different grain. This dough needs to rise. It's not warm enough here. The dough needs heat to rise. My dad was the baker – " Peeta cut off, his jaw clenched. "Before the fire."

Again, the doctor prompted him. "What about the fire?"

Gale could see the tension the question brought. Peeta stared at the dough in his hands, tearing it to pieces as he said, "The fire. Fire burned the bread. District 12 burned and everybody died. It burned down. District 12. Everyone's dead -"

His eyes looked crazed and his voice grew louder and louder. "She killed them. The fire – burned the bread. The district died - " Peeta threw the pieces of dough from his hands and they sprayed across the floor as the doctor pressed a button on the machine. Delly fled to the corner of the room by the door as a guard rushed in. Before the door was even closed, Peeta was slumped back in his bed, asleep from the drugs.

The guard and the doctor fastened Peeta's arms with a second set of restraints as Delly scurried across the room, picking up pieces of the dough from where they lay. She gathered them onto the plastic tray and hurried from the room, pressing the bits of dough back into a ball as she waited impatiently for the door to open from the outside to let her out.

Delly came back into the dim observation room carrying the tray of dough in her hand, looking resigned but determined. Sheldon looked at her sympathetically. "That was good. He's going to have outbursts, we know that. Remember, we have to push him. Giving him something familiar to do with his hands - the dough was a good idea."

Gale was astounded. "You call _that_ good?"

But Delly was nodding and even smiling, wetting the dough and returning it to its jar. "It helped him focus, right? Just a little?"

Gale stared into the room, now empty save for Peeta laying unconscious in his bed, and wondered how that could have been any kind of improvement. The way Plutarch had talked, Peeta would be back to his old self in no time, but that was obviously wrong.

It was all wrong. Peeta was supposed to be affable and gentle. Peeta was likable. Even Gale had had trouble holding a grudge against him in 12. The guy in the glass looked like Peeta. But Gale couldn't even recognize him.

Gale thought about Katniss and felt his heart wrench. If she'd seen him like this, he knew it would be haunting her. Her hard exterior crumbled when faced with pain much less than this. He thought of the quell. He could see Katniss' desperation when Peeta hit that forcefield. He thought of her kitchen, when he'd been hurt and she had kissed him. And he thought about that damned cave where she had nursed Peeta to health in their first games. Where she had been pretending and yet …

He looked at Peeta through the glass, a boy broken by the Capitol, and Gale hated him. And he knew, he could never compete with that pain. Whenever they were in pain, she was there. Until now. This time the pain was so unbearable she had fled to District 2.

She had fled to 2, but Peeta's pain wasn't going anywhere. And he knew it would haunt Katniss. She'd never be able to let go of this unless he recovered. He wondered what he would find when he saw her there. Tomorrow in District 2.

* * *

A/N: What do you think? Could Delly's bread dough be the first step (along with Prim's anti-hijacking) toward Peeta frosting cakes again?


	31. A distressing lie (MJ)

A/N: I believe this touches on a request from Belle453. I hope you all enjoy this sad scene.

* * *

My working in the laundry leaves me too much time with my thoughts. I can't help but wonder, _Is this what it feels like to have a child in the games?_ I haven't been at ease since Gale and Katniss left district 13 for the Capitol. If not for Gale's constant missions taking him away from district 13, our family would be safer than it has ever been despite the war. Safety for the entire family - it was unthinkable even before that disaster in the mines that stole my love from me. The threat of the hunger games was unavoidable. too much to ask. And ever since, the struggle to keep the family fed and clothed has seemed as much as I could handle.

I haven't liked any of Gale's missions - I've hated them, but this is different. This time he's really a soldier in the war.

I hate not knowing what's going on.

Last night at dinner, Peeta was missing. The blonde from town that he usually eats with was sitting alone with her little brother. Peeta had been in training before Gale and the others left for the Capitol; I wonder if he has relapsed. I haven't seen much of the other victors, Johanna and Annie, either.

When a pair of unfamiliar soldiers walk into the large laundry facility, I can feel the anxiousness in the room. We all know it must be more bad news. _For who?_, I wonder. I keep my eyes on my work as supervisor Phlannle meets them near the door.

When Phlannle points the soldiers in the direction of our line of workstations, a knot of fear twists inside me. Standing in front of our group of workers, the shorter of the soldiers asks, "Hazelle Hawthorne?"

_No_, I think. _Please, no. _I want to object, or run away. Go find my children - ALL my children - and take them home and I think about anything but soldiers coming to find me at my work.

"That's me," I answer shakily.

"Ma'am, we need you to come with us."

Sally gives me a sympathetic look and catches my hand briefly in hers as I walk past her. I'm too overcome by the freshly sharpened fear for Gale to respond, and my hand slips limply from her grasp as I follow the soldiers from the room.

They lead me to an elevator and through a labyrinth of corridors to a small nondescript room where a few groups of two to three people are gathered, their faces reading somewhere along the line between stoic and fearful. As I scan the room of people, most of whom were clearly from district 13, I quickly spot the blonde across the room. Carolyn Everdeen is sitting alone on the far side of the room, twisting her hands anxiously and staring into space. I hurry over to join her. As I approach, she looks up at me in confusion and fear. "Why -?"

I shake my head, grasping for any reason beyond the most terrifyingly obvious. "I don't know," I tell her.

An older man is brought into the room next; he walks directly to join two people near the center of the room. Then two distraught young women come in together, the victor Annie Cresta and the blonde girl from town, Delly. Delly seems to be the only thing keeping a tearful Annie upright and moving forward. I press my mouth into a thin, taut line of concern as the girl's eyes meet mine.

We don't have to wait much longer until three soldiers walk in and stand at attention in the front of the room. Behind them, a delegation including President Coin herself, as well as Plutarch Heavensbee and Haymitch, enters the room. I watch Haymitch for some sign of what has happened. I'd never thought that much of him in District 12 - a little disgust for his alcoholism, a little sympathy for what he's been through, and not much else. Now ... well, I know there's a lot more than most of us imagined going on behind all that drinking. Watching him, I don't even realize that I've gripped Carolyn's hand in mine, or that her eyes have followed my gaze to the man who helped her daughter survive the games.

When he finally raises his eyes toward the gathered groups he doesn't meet my gaze. All I can read on his face is anger and regret. The dread that has been sitting like a rock in her chest suddenly seems to take over entirely. Next to me, Carolyn lets out a quiet wail as she clutches my hand fiercely. Suddenly I do not want to know what's going on. I don't want to know what our families are facing in the Capitol.

President Coin clears her throat.

"You have all been gathered because of your connection to Squad 451. As one of our top sharpshooting squads, Squad 451 has been a critical part of our attack on the Capitol..."

President Coin keeps talking. I hear the sound of her voice but can't seem to make sense of the words. Only one thing is clear. It's been clear since those soldiers said my name. Gale is what brought me to this room, and that can only be bad news. We were brought here for our soldiers. We were brought here for our children. Tears well in my eyes and I don't try to stop them.

"The squad was detected by Capitol forces during a mission earlier today. They were trapped in a building within the Capitol. The Capitol forces destroyed the entire city block setting it on fire. We have no hope for their survival. The Capitol has broadcast their destruction of the buildings. The entire block is burning and Capitol forces will no doubt dig out the bodies of your kin when the fires have been extinguished."

_It can't be true_, I think. _It can't be. It can't be this easy for my son to be taken away from me. If it were true, none of us would still be sitting here, in this stupid room. We wouldn't be so calm. _

But we're not calm, not really. Keening wails and sobs seem to echo around me. I feel frozen in place, robbed of breath because some of those wails are mine. They echo out of me into the room, into the cloud of disbelief and grief that surrounds us. Over the din, a male voice drones on with more words we cannot hear.

"You should all be gratified to know that the squad has fought valiantly against the Capitol. Many troops have been lost to the Capitol defenses. At this time we are preparing a fresh assault, a surge in troops to attempt to gain ground along three routes into the heart of the Capitol."


	32. Renewed Hope (MJ)

A/N: A follow up to the last chapter. Thanks to Norbert's Mom for the suggestion and to Belle453 for her thoughts. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Ma, come on. Tell me what's going on?"

Rory had put on a brave face at first. He'd looked scared, but he hadn't asked any questions. He'd done what Hazelle had asked. Last night he'd kept his siblings busy playing games. ... He'd even kept close to Vick and Posy as they ate breakfast this morning in the most secluded corner of the cafeteria. She'd almost kept the children at home - she would have if only they were allowed food in their units - but she couldn't let them go hungry when there was food to be eaten.

Hazelle sighed, rubbing her fingers over her face. Vick and Posy might take a day off school without question, but Rory knew she hadn't told them the whole story. It still didn't seem real, but Hazelle knew couldn't put off telling the kids forever. What if they heard it from someone else? She couldn't let that happen but she couldn't keep them secluded for long.

What could she say? He deserved some kind of explanation. "Rory ... it's about Gale ..." she couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Is he okay?" Rory asked. "What happened?"

She bit her lip and cradled his head in her hand. "He's ... his squad is missing, that's all." Technically it was the truth, but that didn't make her feel any better.

"But they'll find him right?"

Hazelle squeezed her eyes closed. "I hope so." She hugged him to her and rocked back and forth, comforting herself as much as her son. They stayed there together until a series of knocks on the door jerked Hazelle from her thoughts. Rory started to get up, but Hazelle pulled him back to her.

"Ignore it," she told him.

She had known someone would come. She'd been waiting for it, dreading it, afraid to have her son's death confirmed.

Eventually one of the things Plutarch Heavensbee has told the gathered yesterday was something President Snow had promised in a broadcast. He'd said that the Capitol forces would be digging out the squad's bodies from the ashy remnants of the torched apartment building. The statement had, in its own twisted way, given her the faintest hope. As long as there were no dead bodies, she could imagine Gale was still alive. She knew she would have to be strong and take care of Rory, and Vick, and little Posy. But how could a mother ever accept their own child's death? How much better it would be to believe that none of this was really happening. She simply couldn't face losing Gale.

"Ma? You're scaring me..." Rory was looking at her, creased lines of worry that seem entirely wrong on his young and innocent face.

The minute she had to confront a gray and lifeless body that used to be her son, it would be real. Until that moment came she clung to the dream that none of this was really happening, that it was all a big mistake. She simply couldn't deal with it. With really losing him.

The knocking continued.

"Go away," she shouted.

"Hazelle? It's me," Carolyn called from the hallway.

Hazelle took a deep breath trying to pull herself together. If it were anyone else, she could ignore them, but not Carolyn. When their children left for the Capitol, they'd promised to support each other. She couldn't just ignore her now.

When she thought she could talk without her voice shaking she said, "Rory, go check on Vick and Posy, okay? Stay with them while I talk with Mrs. Everdeen." If she had to tell them she would, but she didn't want Rory to hear whatever details Carolyn had brought with her. She would tell all the children together. After.

Rory looked unhappy, but did as his mother asked. Steeling herself, Hazelle opened the door to Carolyn. "Don't tell me yet," she begged. "I don't know how to do this."

Carolyn shook her head energetically. "Hazelle, wait ..." She looked eager, almost happy.

Hazelle thought she must be overwrought. She had heard about Carolyn's lapse after their husbands died, though they didn't know each other at the time. Was this throwing her off balance again?

Hazelle cut the woman off saying, "No. We'll get through this. Just let me make some tea. Then we can talk."

Carolyn looked as if she might cry, and Hazelle turned toward her poor excuse for a kitchen. Before she could take a step, Carolyn grabbed her arm.

"They're not dead. Hazelle, listen to me. They're alive."

_Clinging to hope still, like me. Then they haven't broadcast the bodies yet, _Hazelle thought.

She paused and pulled away, shaking her head as she hurried to fill two mugs with hot water. "I hope you're right. I can't bear to think of it ... " She winced as hot water splashed onto her wrist. Hopefully she asked, "so there's no news yet?"

Carolyn answered, "Hazelle, that's the news. They're not dead! The Capitol didn't find any bodies. Well, no. They found a couple bodies. But not Katniss and not Gale, their bodies weren't there. They're still alive!"

Hazelle wondered if she dared believe it. Robotically she dropped the tea bags into the mugs and took them over to the table where Carolyn stood waiting as her mind raced with the possibility.

Barely able to set the mugs onto the table she asked, "Really?"

Carolyn's smile widened as she nodded. "Haymitch just came to tell me."

Hazelle threw her arms around her friend, relief overcoming her. Together they cried, tears of relief rolling down their cheeks. Finally Hazelle let go, and collapsed into a chair at the table. Carolyn followed suit, and pushed a rapidly cooling mug of tea toward Hazelle.

They spoke quietly back and forth, admitting all their worst hopes and fears. They drained their drinks with shared relief and gratitude. They whispered to each other about the kids. Even though Carolyn hadn't told Prim, she'd found out. This morning Prim had disappeared to the hospital first thing after breakfast and Carolyn hadn't seen her since. Four times Carolyn repeated that she should go find the girl to make sure she knew. But she never left her chair, always following with the thought that surely Prim had found out by now.

Hazelle was relieved her children hadn't heard anything. She wouldn't have to tell them now. She was thankful beyond words.

"They're still not safe," Carolyn mourned.

"No," whispered Hazelle regretfully.

"They could come again tomorrow and this time it could be true," Carolyn added.

"They won't," Hazelle said with more strength than she really felt. "They'll make it." She knew the fear she'd felt would not really leave. It would stay with her and haunt her with what could happen. The war wasn't over, and as long as Gale was a part of it, he wouldn't be safe. She knew that now more than ever.


End file.
